


i wish you'd live like you're made of glass

by gilligankane



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-11-28 18:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 91,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: “You can’t change what the world has decided has to happen.”Nicole huffs, frustrated. “But why can I see things if I can’t change them?”Her momma chuckles. “That’s just the way it is, baby. I know, I know. It’s not fair and it’s a lot of responsibility, but it’s our… our blessing and our curse."--In which the Earps aren't the only ones who are cursed.





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheGaySmurf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGaySmurf/gifts).



> I caved. I caved and started a multi-chapter fic and I was going to wait to post it but I am IMPATIENT and so here it is. A huge, HUGE thank you to Smurf, who is the reason this isn't a total wreck of a start.
> 
> This will be six chapters so long, so strap in.

 

Nicole Haught pulls her Stetson low over her eyes against the mid afternoon sun. The glare off the freshly fallen snow blinds her anyway, and she hisses as she has to look away. Nedley mistakes her frustration with the sun for her annoyance with the cold. 

“You’ll get used to the winters here,” Nedley says, clapping his gloved hands together. “By the time you’re my age, you won’t even feel it.”

“Have you?” Nicole asks. “Gotten used to it, I mean.”

Nedley glares at her. “I’ve got thin blood,” he says gruffly. “Listen, this here is open and shut. Why don’t you try it out on your own. Cut your teeth.”

Nicole stands a little straighter, the idea of taking on a case solo warming her instantly. “Sure thing, Sheriff.”

He nods his head in the direction of Shorty’s Saloon, glass glittering beneath a broken window. “Good. I’ll be back at the station.” He gets back into his SUV, parked next to her cruiser, without a look back at her and peels out of the parking lot towards the station.

Nicole pauses for a moment in front of the bar, taking it all in. She tries to catalog everything that might be important - the glass is on the outside of the building, not the inside; there’s no footprints besides her own and Nedley’s in the snow in front of the window. She tries to take in what might not be related to the crime either: there’s a big poster out front that promises people they can drink where Wyatt Earp drank; the wooden sign above the door is cracked and the paint is peeling; there’s a bright red Jeep parked in front; a closed sign on the door. Nicole tries the handle anyway and when she realizes it’s unlocked, she pushes it open and steps inside out of the cold.

“We’re closed!” someone calls out as the bell above the door jingles.

“I’m with the Sheriff’s Department.” She takes her hat off, runs a hand over her French braid, and comes down the stairs into the bar, looking around for the source of the voice.

A woman pops up from behind the bar, a glass and a dishrag in her hand. “Oh,” she says. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Nicole goes to tip her hat and realizes at the last second that she’s not wearing it. She ends up waving a hand instead. “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. There was a report of a broken window and I figured I’d come over and check it out.”

The woman sighs and looks at the window. “Yeah, well, if someone had come out last night when I called about those two getting all worked up, I wouldn’t have a broken window. It’s freaking freezing in here.”

Nicole offers a sympathetic smile. “I’ll talk to the Sheriff about making sure it doesn’t happen again.”

The woman nods sharply and then puts down the glass in her hand. “Anyway, Pete York is the shit-ticket who broke the window. He threw the eight ball when he lost his money on a game. He’s always been a sore loser.”

Nicole fishes her notebook out of her pocket and bites the cap off her pen. She curses softly when she realizes the pen is out of ink and decides she can just remember the name instead.

“Here,” the woman says, pulling a pen out of her ponytail and handing it to Nicole.

Nicole smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Ms., uh…”

“Waverly,” the woman says. “Waverly Earp.”

Nicole pauses for a moment. “Like Earp as in-“

“Great-grandfather,” Waverly interrupts.

Nicole nods and looks back at the broken window. “Any idea where I can find Pete York?”

Waverly gives her a crooked smile. “Isn’t that your job to find out?”

“I’ll patch that window for you, temporarily, if you tell me,” Nicole offers.

Waverly crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the tabletop dishwasher behind the bar. “What makes you think I need your help patching it?”

Nicole opens her mouth to answer and time slows. She watches Waverly’s shoulders shift minutely as she waits for an answer. The ticking of the clock above the bar stretches into a long beat. The room blurs and Nicole feels her body pulled forward. She bucks and the lightning in the bar softens into darkness. Her vision fades back and she’s still in the bar but it’s darker now, the afternoon sun low in the sky through the window. Waverly is at the window, standing on a step ladder using her shoulder to hold a piece of plywood to the window frame. There’s a hammer in her hand and nails in her mouth. She looks over her shoulder and grins widely. “ _See? Told you I didn’t need your help_ ,” she says to Nicole’s right. Nicole looks over and she’s standing there, a wide smile on her face and her hat in her hands, her hair loose. “ _I guess you didn’t,_ ” she says. Waverly winks at her and hammers a nail through the plywood.

The clock ticks again and Nicole blinks. Waverly is still behind the bar, arms crossed, her eyes daring Nicole to disagree with her. Nicole glances at the window, the glass still shattered.

Nicole holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. My bad.” She puts her hat on the bar and leans forward. “But maybe you can tell me where to find Pete anyway? Help a new girl out?”

Waverly stares at her for a long moment before shaking her head softly. “Fine,” she agrees. She reaches for a bar napkin, holding her hand out for the pen she gave Nicole. She scribbles something out on the napkin, folds it, and puts it in Nicole’s hand. Her fingertips brush across Nicole’s palm and it sends a shiver through Nicole’s body that centers itself low in the pit of Nicole’s stomach.

“Thank you,” Nicole breathes out, her eyes on Waverly’s hand in her own.

“You never gave me your name,” Waverly says.

Nicole looks up and takes a moment before she can come up with a response. “No, I didn’t.”

Waverly’s lips twitch. “Well?” she says after a long silence.

Nicole smirks. “Oh, did you want it?”

Waverly huffs and picks up the glass she had been drying. “Fine, don’t tell me. See if I ever help you again.” She purses her lips and focuses her attention on the glass.

Nicole fishes a card out of her pocket, the one she folded over and over again on the long bus ride into Purgatory. She smoothes it out and puts it down on the bar. “Haught,” she says.

Waverly’s head snaps up. “What did you call me?”

Nicole smirks again and points at herself. “No. I’m Haught. Nicole Haught.”

“Haught,” Waverly repeats slowly, her eyes locked on Nicole. “Okay.” She looks away and picks up Nicole’s card. “Officer Haught.”

“That’s me.”

Waverly puts the card back down on the bar, her head tipped to one side, looking back at Nicole. Nicole feels her cheeks burn a little under her gaze and has to look away, focusing on the broken window. When she looks back, Waverly is still staring at her. She gives her a small smile and pushes off the bar she’s still leaning on.

“Well, I better get going,” Nicole says regretfully. She picks her hat up off the bar, palming it.

“Come by later,” Waverly says. “I’ll have that window patched.”

Nicole smiles and puts her hat on her head. “Wouldn’t miss it,” she says, moving up the stairs and out of the bar. The sun catches her in the eyes again and she winces but tucks her head against the sharp winter breeze and ducks into her cruiser. She unfolds the napkin Waverly had pressed into her hand and barks out a noise that sounds like a laugh.

“ _You do your job and I’ll do mine_ ,” Waverly had scribbled on it. She signed it with a smiley face.

She slaps the napkin on the dashboard and turns the engine over, tapping to the rhythm of the song playing on Purgatory’s one radio station. She laughs again, louder this time.

She looks at the napkin again and smiles as she points the cruiser in the direction of the station.

 

-

The first time it happens, Nicole is turning seven and still wearing her party hat.

Her momma has been staring at her all week and Nicole starts standing in front of the mirror each day, trying to figure out why. She doesn't see anything different. Her hair is the same length and there's still a small gap between her two front teeth, but she measures; her hair isn't growing and the gap is still the same size every time she puts a ruler to it.

She's about to blow the candles out on her birthday cake when everyone starts moving like they're underwater. Then everything is going blurry at the edges, like she's laying down in bed and she's tired and she keeps opening and closing her eyes. Her cake fades away and she's not at the kitchen table anymore, fighting for elbow space with her brother, Nathan. Instead, she's standing in the backyard and Nathan is climbing up the monkey bars on the playscape, leaning back and sticking his tongue out towards the slide. " _You can't catch me_ ," he's saying. And Nicole is there, on the slide, her party hat on and cake smeared on her face and she's sticking her tongue out back at him. " _I don't want to catch you_ ," she hears her own voice back.

She watches Nathan reach for the next bar, but he's still looking at the Nicole who is on the slide. He misses the next rung at the same time that he shifts his weight and he's falling, hitting the ground with a thud and a crunching noise, his wrist trapped at a funny angle under his body. The Nicole on the slide screams and her daddy comes running out of the house.

Then the sound of ‘Happy Birthday’ is loud in her ear and she’s back at the dining room table and the candles are dripping onto the cake and everyone is staring at her. She remembers to blow out the candles just as her momma starts to frown at her and then everyone is cheering and clapping and Nathan sighs, “ _finally_ ” and her dad is cutting her the biggest slice, the one that says her name on it.

She forgets about the weird moment until they’re in the backyard and they’re playing pirates and sailors - she’s a pirate - and she’s at the top of the slide and Nathan is climbing to the top of the monkey bars. Nicole slides to the bottom and pauses and Nathan turns upside down to stick his tongue out at her and -

He’s falling, hitting the ground, and his wrist gets stuck under him when he lands.

Nicole screams.

Her daddy comes flying out of the house and her momma scoops her up off the slide.

“I got you, baby,” her momma says in her ear.

“I saw it,” is all she can say. “I saw it.”

Her momma is carrying her into the house, picking up the phone. “I know.”

Nicole puts both of her hands on both of her momma’s cheeks and shakes her head. “No, Momma. I saw it. Earlier. Before it happened.”

Her momma puts down the phone. “I know,” she repeats softly.

Her brother’s wrist is broken; she spends her seventh birthday in the ER with her party hat still on.

 

-

“Hey, Linda, can I ask you a question?” Nicole asks tentatively, standing from her desk. The bullpen was full when she got back from Shorty’s and she’d spent the last two hours researching Pete York. He works at the steel mill on the edge of town and has spent more nights in holding than Nicole has fingers. Now it’s mid-shift and the room has cleared out as everyone makes their dinners, crowding the small kitchenette. Nicole carries her sandwich to the reception desk and leans back against the high counter. 

Linda Doucette looks up from the drugstore romance novel she’s reading. She peers at Nicole over her glasses and shrugs. “Sure, sugar.”

Nicole hasn’t been in Purgatory long but she carries a soft spot for Linda already. She’s the only other female deputy in the Sheriff’s Department and on Nicole’s first day, she had looked Nicole up and down and snorted at her. “We’ll see how this goes,” she had said. Nicole likes to think she’s living up to Linda's expectations.

“What can you tell me about Waverly Earp?” she asks, biting into her sandwich. She washes it down with some cold coffee and reminds herself to run to the grocery store in the morning.

Linda snorts and folds the page she’s reading over, putting the book down on the counter. “Why do you want to know?”

Nicole shrugs and tries to play nonchalant. “Nedley asked me to take the broken window case at Shorty’s. I went into today and-"

“Met the town sweetheart,” Linda finishes.

Nicole flushes a little. “I didn’t know she was called that.”

Linda helps herself to the other half of Nicole’s sandwich, sliding her own bag of chips in Nicole’s direction. “Ms. Waverly Earp has the heart of every man, woman, and child in this godforsaken town.”

Nicole can’t blame them. She saw that smile, the way it stretched ear to ear and made Nicole’s stomach turn over. Even with a badge on and a gun clipped to her belt, she felt sixteen again, waiting to see if Melissa Roy was going to check “yes” or “no” on the note asking her to go with Nicole to prom.

Melissa Roy had said no.

“Terrible circumstances, that family,” Linda mutters. “It’s like they’re cursed or something.”

Nicole tries to speak around a chunk of tuna fish in her mouth, but Linda glares at her and she takes the time to swallow before opening her mouth. “What do you mean?” she asks casually.

This is what Nicole knows about Linda: she’s a sucker for a good romance novel with a half-naked man on the front, she loves her grandchildren - all 12 of them, she makes the best peach cobbler Nicole has ever had, and she loves telling gossip almost as much as she loves hearing it.

Linda leans in, beckoning Nicole a little closer. “Waverly’s whole family, the lot of them, got the worst luck,” she whispers. “Ward, her daddy, died going on 15, 16 years ago. Her mama took off before that, not a word in nearly 20 years. Her oldest sister, Willa, was abducted the same night Ward was killed. They never found a body. And Waverly’s other sister, Wynonna?”

“Yeah?” Nicole breathes out.

“Well, she’s the one who shot Ward,” Linda finishes.

The chip in Nicole’s mouth hits the counter. She looks down sheepishly and sweeps it into her sandwich container. Then she frowns and looks up. “Wait. The same Wynonna that’s working with that Black Badge Agent?”

Linda whistles a little under her breath. “The same. Strolled back into town the other day and got herself all mixed up in trouble again.”

Nicole leans back in her seat, her arms braced against the counter. “Wow.”

“But that ain’t all. Ward’s daddy? And his daddy before him? All of them, dead. Ward lasted the longest. He was 34 when he died.” Linda picks her book back up. “That Waverly, though. She’s nothing like the rest of them Earp’s. She’s sugar and spice and everythin’ nice. Raised by her Uncle Curtis and his wife. The McCready’s. Curtis is gone now, but they raised Waverly like she was their own.”

Nicole’s brain is on overload, trying to reconcile the woman behind the bar with the past Linda just described. She shakes her head as the bullpen fills up again and she pushes off the second stool at the counter, collecting her things.

“How’s your broken window going, Haught?” one of the other officers asks snidely.

Nicole opens her mouth, but Linda’s hand on her arm stops her. “Don’t pay them no mind. They’re just jealous Nedley has taken such a shine to you. Pine there has been on the force since you were a twinkle in your parent’s eye and he’s still working overnights on the weekends.” Linda gives her a reassuring smile. “Go track down Pete York, get him to pay for that window.”

Nicole nods firmly and walks back to her desk, ignoring the snickering and the simpering noises behind her back. She’s just about to sit down when the laughing bubbles up and slows. Underwater noises, like the world is moving in slow motion. The room goes hazy and she sees Linda at the front desk, turned around with her glasses low on her nose. “ _You should be so lucky to have Officer Haught on your side, gentleman_ ,” she’s telling them. Nicole can see Officer Pine go to eat a bite of pasta. It misses and slides down his tie instead, leaving a marinara trail behind it. “ _At least she can get through a whole shift without looking like a toddler at a church picnic_ ,” Linda finishes with a pointed glance at Pine.

She blinks and Pine is sitting at his desk, tie still pristine. Nicole smiles to herself and tosses her empty sandwich container into her desk, pulling her jacket on. It’s midday and she should be able to catch Pete York at work still. With a nod to Linda, she treks back out into the biting cold and makes the twenty minute ride to the steel mill in fifteen minutes. She takes a deep breath as she parks her cruiser, knowing that she’s still new to the people of Purgatory and they might not be willing to play nice.

Nicole finds Pete exactly where his supervisor said he would be, in the break room with his shift. She raps on the open door and offers her friendliest smile, her hat firmly on her head. It’s a move she makes consciously and when Pete instinctually straightens up at the sight of her, it’s move she’s glad she made.

“Hey, Pete,” she says informally, giving him a small smile. “I was wondering if you have a moment?”

Pete stands up and brushes his shirt off. “What about, exactly?”

Nicole continues to smile. “Just a matter that came to my attention this morning.”

Another man on his left stands. _Kyle York_ , if Nicole remembers his name correctly. “Anything you got to say to him you can say in front of us.”

Pete puts a hand on Kyle’s shoulder as he moves around the bench he was sitting on. “It’s okay, Kyle.”

Kyle shakes his head. “Pete-”

Pete squeezes his shoulder. “I got it. It’s fine.” He nods at Nicole. “Where to?”

Nicole gestures to the hallway. “Just here, Pete. Real quick. I promise.”

He steps into the hallway and closes the break room door slightly. “What’s this about?”

Nicole holds out her hand. “I’m Officer Haught.”

Pete stares at her hand for a moment. “Right. Okay.” He shakes her hand. “What’s this about Officer Haught?”

Nicole scratches at the back of her hat with one hand, the other resting lightly on her utility belt. “Well I’m following up on a incident at Shorty’s Saloon last night. A few witnesses,” she fibs, “stepped forward and claim you threw an eight ball through a window after losing a round at the table?”

Pete sighs. “Shit.”

Nicole gives him a tiny smile. “It’s just a matter of paying for the replacement window. Shorty was willing to not press charges if you just stop by the hardware store and pay for the new window.”

Pete sighs again and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do it,” he agrees. He shrugs. “Sometimes my anger gets the better of me.”

Nicole claps him on the shoulder. “Happens to all of us. You’ll stop by and pay Tommy for the window? Today?”

“I’m off at 4:30.”

“Perfect. I’ll let Shorty know the window should be paid for by 5pm and that Tommy can drop it off tomorrow morning.” Nicole offers him her hand again. “Real nice talking to you, Pete.”

“Sure,” Pete sighs. He pushes back into the break room and Nicole signs out at the front office. She aims the cruiser back towards town, but when she gets to Main Street, she pulls into a parking spot in front of Shorty’s. It can’t hurt to pass on the good news, she figures.

And maybe get another glimpse of Waverly Earp, if she’s lucky.

She pauses before getting out of the cruiser. It’s nearly the end of her shift and when she gets back to the station she can pack up for the night. So she pulls her hair tie loose and winds her fingers through her braid, loosening the threads until her hair is loose and tucked behind her ears.

The bell above the door rings when she pushes it open. It’s closer to the evening now, and some people have shuffled their way in Shorty’s. Nicole’s ears pick up Waverly’s voice over the soft music coming from the jukebox in the corner. She’s placing a beer in front of a guy at the end of the bar. Nicole frowns, taking in his heavy black coat that nearly reaches the floor and his hat, perched on the back of his head. She watches him pull an end of his moustache and she shudders before she turns her attention back to Waverly.

Waverly spots her as she descends the stairs onto the main floor and gives her a smile and a wave. Nicole flaps her hand back and then tucks it into her pocket, her hat in her other hand. Waverly disappears behind a swinging door and comes back out a few moments later.

The greeting on Nicole’s lips dies as she sees Waverly hoisting a large piece of plywood off the floor and over the bar.

Waverly grins widely at her. “Hey, Officer Haught.”

Nicole looks back and forth between the piece of plywood and Waverly’s arms, her mouth hanging open slightly. “You, uh…”

“Just doin’ my job,” she sings. Waverly rounds the bar and picks up the piece of plywood like it’s a piece of cardboard. She hefts it over to the window and pauses, shifting it in her hands before she climbs a two-step ladder. She pushes her shoulder into the plywood and some nails into her mouth, pulling a hammer out of her waitress apron. She looks over her shoulder and grins widely. “See? Told you I didn’t need your help,” she says to Nicole.

Nicole smiles wide on her face and her hat in her hands, her hair loose. “I guess you didn’t,” she says.

Waverly winks at her and hammers a nail through the plywood.

Nicole feels her heart hammering through her chest as she sits down at the bar. Her eyes drift to the man at the other end who is doing a terrible job of pretending to not pay attention to Waverly. Nicole feels a rush in her chest and shifts a little in her seat. She must move slightly into his way because she can hear him let loose a heavy sigh and then the clunk of a beer mug.

“I must bid you adieu, Ms. Earp” the guy says, moving past Nicole.

Waverly turns from the window, a nail still sticking her out of her mouth. She presses her shoulder against the plywood again and pulls the nail out of her mouth. “Okay, Henry. Come back soon.”

He tips his hat. “Oh, I shall.”

Nicole watches him go, her eyes narrowed. When she looks back at Waverly, she frowns. “What?”

Waverly smiles and gives her a small shrug. “Nothing. But you were staring at him awfully hard.”

Nicole scratches at a spot on her hat. “He’s creepy.”

“Henry?” Waverly laughs. “He’s harmless. A little too much into the whole ‘Old West’ thing, but totally harmless.” She turns her attention back to the window and Nicole watches her work. After a few minutes, she steps down from the step ladder and grins at her handiwork. She throws an arm up. “So?”

Nicole grins widely. “It looks great.” She waits until Waverly is back behind the bar before she leans over it. “Though,” she whispers. “Pete York is going to pay Tommy down at Walden’s Hardware for the replacement window and Tommy is supposed to replace it tomorrow.”

Waverly stares at her with her mouth wide open for a few long moments. “Wh-What?” she sputters. “But I just, I just…”

Nicole smirks. “You do your job and I’ll do mine, right?”

And when the fight leaves Waverly’s eyes and she laughs instead, pouring Nicole a soda, Nicole feels her whole stomach bottom out in the best way.

 

-

“Hey, Linda,” someone drawls, draping themselves across the reception desk. “How’s it hangin’?”

Nicole looks up when she hears the telltale thump of Linda’s book of the week hitting the counter. Now that she knows Wynonna is related to Waverly, she can see the similarities, if she squints and puts her head at a 90 degree angle.

“What can I do for you, Wynonna?”

Wynonna slaps a hand down on the counter. “Now, is that any way to talk to a citizen of Purgatory? Do you treat everyone with the same amount of charm?”

Nicole pushes out of her seat and wanders over to the counter, leaning against it next to Linda. “Hey,” she says. “I got this one.”

Linda narrows her eyes but gets up and grabs her coffee mug. “County Fair winning tulips,” she grumbles as she heads towards the kitchenette. “Years to grow, gone in a night.”

Nicole raises an eyebrow at Wynonna. Wynonna shrugs. “Would you believe me if I said it was an accident?” She waves her hands around. “Don’t answer that. Listen, I’m working with the Black Badge on something and I need some information.”

The words ‘Black Badge’ make Nicole’s interest spike. She’s heard snippets of conversations about Black Badge, how they work weird cases - mysterious disappearances, anything to do with the trailer park on the side of town. More and more lately, calls have been coming through dispatch and landing right on Black Badge’s caseload. In the past week, after playing buddy-cop to get Pete York to pay for the window, she’s been stuck hunting down people who owe parking tickets.

“What kind of information?” she asks, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Wynonna grins and leans closer. “Anything Nedley didn’t turn over on that bus case from the other day?”

Nicole frowns. “He gave you everything.”

Wynonna shakes her head. “Big bad Sheriff is holding back. But I know for a fact that he leaves important files in the top drawer of that busted file cabinet he keeps in his office.”

Nicole leans back away from the desk a little. “I don’t want to know how you know that.”

“I left my frequent flyer card at home, otherwise I’d show it to you.”

“I can’t steal information from a police station. From the _Sheriff’s office_.”

Wynonna sticks out her tongue. “Lame.”

Nicole shrugs. “Name-calling is very mature of you.”

Wynonna peers over the counter and looks Nicole up and down. “I never claimed I was.” She looks back up at Nicole. “Think I could bribe you to look the other way?”

Nicole gives her a hard look.

“That’s a no, then.” Wynonna sighs. “Well, I tried.” She looks wistfully at the rest of the bullpen, eyes lingering on Pine. “At least if Pinecone over there was manning the desk, I could’ve flashed him. Woulda worked, too.”

Nicole feels her face flush a little and she busies herself with straightening out the pamphlets stacked on the counter. _Marijuana is Not Medicine_ , she reads to herself. She looks back up after a minute of scanning the brochure and Wynonna is smirking at her, her eyes twinkling.

“Why, Officer Haught. Would _flashing_ have gotten me past this desk?”

Nicole huffs and pushes the pamphlets away. “Listen, do you actually need something legal, or can I go back to following up on parking tickets?”

Wynonna shrugs. “I don’t care who you like between your… sheets.” She makes a face. “That’s what you’re doing? That sucks balls.” She lifts a hand and her motion slows.

The chatter of the bullpen stretches into a long, loud tone. Nicole turns, the bullpen dark and empty. Wynonna is in the doorway of Nedley’s office, closing the door behind her. There’s a large folder under her arm. She trips over a chair leg and bangs her knee on Nicole’s desk, rattling her nameplate. She swears and straightens up, picking up the nameplate and putting it back down on the desk where it was.

Nicole blinks and Wynonna is back in front of her.

She hooks her thumb in the direction of the Black Badge office door. “At least in there they promise I can shoot things.”

“Don’t kill if you can wound, don’t wound if you can subdue, don’t subdue if you can pacify, and don’t raise your hand at all until you’ve first extended it,” Nicole quotes.

“What is that, Tupac?”

Nicole frowns. “Wonder Woman.”

Wynonna’s lips twitch. “Ah, so you have a type.”

Nicole sighs. “Seriously, if you’re-”

“Earp,” a voice says from somewhere behind Nicole.

Wynonna puts her hands up in surrender and backs away from the counter. “Duty calls. We’ll talk later.” Then she turns on her heel and disappears out the front door on the trail of Agent Dolls.

Nicole double takes. “How-”

Linda appears next to her. “That man needs to wear a bell.”

Nicole jumps. “Shit.” She presses a hand to her chest. “ _You_ need a bell.”

Linda looks at her out of the corner of her eye. “You can hear my knees cracking a room away. You okay, there, girl?”

Nicole nods, her eyes on the parking lot. She watches Wynonna get into a black SUV, Agent Dolls behind the wheel. “Fine,” she says. “I’m fine.

 

-

Her brother gets a bright blue cast and gives Nicole one dollar to draw a Superman symbol on it. He takes fifty cents back when she messes up and has to make it into a Batman logo instead, but he still shows it off to all his friends.

One morning, Nicole is sitting at the table and she’s trying to shove more pancakes in her mouth than Nathan can, and the world slows down again. Nathan’s mouth hangs open long enough that Nicole can see all the way to the things that hang in the back of his throat. Nicole counts to 20 but her momma is still pouring a glass of orange juice that never seems to fill up.

Nicole looks to the hallway near the kitchen and her momma is there, too, no orange juice in her hand. She’s talking to her daddy with a big smile on her face. “ _Are you sure_?”

Her daddy smiles back at her. “ _Mr. Alderman told me the promotion would be effective at the beginning of the month. It gives us a few weeks to try and find a house, at least._ ”

Her momma sighs softly. “ _But the kids_?”

Her daddy squeezes her momma tight in his arms. “ _They’re young. It’s the middle of the summer. They’ll make new friends. This move will be good for us, you’ll see_.”

Nicole blinks and her momma is capping the orange juice container, the glass on the counter full. Nicole stares into the hallway and screws up her face. Her momma rests a heavy hand on her shoulder.  “You okay, baby?”

Nicole nods slowly. She looks up at her momma. “Are we moving?”

Her momma blinks down at her a few times. “Why would you think that?”

Nicole keeps staring at her momma. “I heard it.”

Nathan keeps shoving pancakes in mouth.

Her momma crouches down next to her chair. “Where did you hear it?”

“I saw you,” Nicole admits. “But you were over there.” She points to the hallway. “And daddy was home from work and he said he got the job and we were gonna move. I don’t want to move.”

Her momma sighs and brushes Nicole’s hair back off her face. “If that’s what you saw happen, baby, then that’s what’s going to happen. What did he say exactly?”

Nicole tries hard to remember. She shrugs. “He said that the promotion would be, uh, addective? At the end of the month. And that we’re young and it’s summer and we’ll make friends.” Nicole drops her voice to a whisper. “I don’t want new friends.”

Her momma smiles softly and stands up. “We’ll see what happens when your daddy comes home, baby. But things have to happen the way you saw them, okay?”

Nathan shouts, ’I did it!’ through a mouthful of pancakes. His plate is clean and his cheeks balloon out. Her momma rolls her eyes and pushes him out of the kitchen, telling him to get upstairs and clean his room before he even thinks about going outside. Her momma sits down in his seat and pushes his plate away.

“But I don’t want to move,” Nicole insists. She pushes her own pancakes away. “Beth is here and Rosie from school and I’m in Ms. D’s class this year which is the best class and we buried Hercules in the tomato patch. We can’t dig him up!”

“We can’t change what’s already set in course,” her momma says. “When I was your age, my momma told me the same thing. I saw something and I tried to stop it when the time came, but it happened anyway.”

“What did you try to change?” Nicole asks quietly.

Her momma looks down the hall into the living room, the same hall Nicole saw her parents talking in. “I was in the car with my parents. We were going to dinner. And we were driving down a long road in the dark. I had seen it earlier in the day, the whole thing. I knew a deer was going to jump out of the high grass and try to cross the road. I knew it was going to hit the car and we would go spinning into a ditch on the side of the road. And my daddy was going to die in the crash. So just before I thought it was going to happen, I yelled _‘stop_!’ in his ear. He hit the brakes and we skid to a stop and in the headlights, we could see a deer walking across the road in front of us. I thought we were fine. I thought I had saved him. But we got closer to the restaurant and another car came out of nowhere, hitting the driver’s side. Right where my dad was sitting.”

Nicole holds her breath.

“And he had still died,” her momma finishes. “Even though I had tried to keep him alive.”

Nicole exhales noisily.

“I told my momma later,” she continues. “I told her what I saw and how I tried to change it. And do you know what she told me?”

Nicole shakes her head.

“You can’t change what the world has decided has to happen.”

Nicole huffs, frustrated. “But why can I see things if I can’t change them?”

Her momma chuckles. “That’s just the way it is, baby. I know, I know. It’s not fair and it’s a lot of responsibility, but it’s our… our blessing and our curse. It’s been like this for as long as any of my mother’s mother’s can remember. And it’ll be like that for your daughter too. I remember my grandmother calling it a gift." 

Nicole suddenly perks up. “Can we return it? Like we did with that sweater Aunt Katherine got you last year at Christmas?”

Her momma laughs softly and presses a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll see, baby. When you’re older, you’ll see how much good can come of it.”

Nicole’s shoulders slump as she drops her chin into her hand.

 

-

Nicole is in the middle of logging repeat parking offenders in a spreadsheet she’s making just for the hell of it when her computer screen blurs. 

She feels herself pitch and she’s outside, dead leaves beneath her boots.

She doesn’t know this place.

She spins in circles, trying to find a landmarker when she spies a lychgate in the distance. She can see ‘EARP’ scratched into the top beam and she breathes a little easier. But then her eyes follow the rope hanging from the top beam and her stomach bottoms out again.

The rope ends in a noose around Waverly Earp’s neck.

She’s balancing on a bar stool as it rocks unsteadily underneath her. Nicole feels a scream catch in her throat. She can see Wynonna pull up on a motorcycle. Waverly is grabbing at the rope, trying to leverage herself a little higher, to take the pressure off her neck.

Nicole takes a few unsteady steps forward.

“ _Hold on, baby girl_ ,” Wynonna yells.

A gunshot sends Nicole to the ground, her hat falling behind her. Sticks and leaves cut into her palms. She gets back up on her feet and looks around wildly. Wynonna is hiding behind her motorcycle, taking deep breaths. She turns and looks back.

“ _Baby girl_!” Wynonna shouts.

“ _I’m fine_!” Waverly shouts back, her voice hoarse.

Nicole is more prepared for the second shot. She crouches down and scans the rocky terrain. She can’t see anything, her eyes constantly swinging back to Waverly, still struggling with the rope. Her toes give out and she makes a small choking sound as the rope presses tighter against her throat. And then - there. She sees three shadows come out from the underbrush. They look familiar but Nicole can’t place them.

“ _Give it up, Earp_ ,” one of them says. His voice is deep, nearly distorted. Nicole almost swears that his eyes are burning 

“ _Don’t, Wynonna!_ ” Waverly yells. She’s back on her tiptoes now and the rope is jerking above her.

Wynonna pulls a standard issue handgun from her waist and fires towards the lychgate but misses, the bullet speeding past Waverly and into the house behind her.

Nicole feels trapped, leaves stuck to her hands and her hat on the ground. She can’t make her feet move forward. She looks at Wynonna, pressed against the side of the motorcycle and breathing hard. Waverly twists and the rope jerks again, one of Waverly’s feet sliding off the stool.

Wynonna peers over the motorcycle at the same time and lets out a growl, tossing her gun into the dirt and making a run for Waverly.

One of the guys tackles Wynonna to the ground. Nicole watches them scuffle; watches Wynonna on top and then back down as they roll through the dirt. Wynonna gets in a solid right jab and the man reels back, stunned for a moment. Wynonna gets to her feet and wipes a small trail of blood from her lip. A second man approaches her, throwing a punch that Wynonna dodges. Nicole watches her dip under another hook aimed at her side and sweep a leg through the dirt, knocking the man to the ground.

The third man stands near Waverly, a grin on his face.

“ _I hope you’re ready to meet your maker, Malcolm_ ,” Wynonna hisses.

Malcolm laughs. Nicole’s stomach turns.

“ _I hope you’re ready to curse yours_ ,” he fires back.

Wynonna’s face twists in confusion at the same time as Malcolm twists his body, kicking the stool out from underneath Waverly.

Nicole hears Waverly’s neck crack before she sees Wynonna raise a second gun and fire it dead center between Malcolm’s eyes.

Nicole blinks and feels bile rise in her throat. She leans to the side and vomits into the trashcan next to her desk.

“Jesus, Haught,” Pine shouts, jumping back.

_Waverly_ , she thinks.

Nicole gasps for air, pulling at her collar until she manages to undo the top button. She feels herself gag again and she leans over to empty the rest of her stomach. She stumbles up from her desk, tripping on her own feet. She hits the small conference table in the middle of the bullpen before she rights herself.

“I’ve gotta,” she starts to say.

_Waverly_.

Pine puts his hands up. “Go.”

She takes off running for her cruiser.


	2. ii.

Nicole sees a lot of things before they happen. Small, inconsequential things. Like, she knew Nathan’s girlfriend was going to break up with him before he did; she knew her dad was going to leave them; she knew she would score the winning basket in the semi-finals her sophomore year and that she would miss the final buzzer shot in the championship game by a mile.

She’s never seen anything like _that_ before.

Every time she sees something, she remembers what her momma told her all those years ago: “ _We can’t change what’s already set in course._ ”

It echoes in her head as she yanks the wheel hard, swerving around a parked car on Main Street.

“Dispatch, this is Officer Haught. I need a location,” she says as calmly as she can into her radio.

Her radio crackles. “10-4.”

“Earp residence.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the radio. Nicole grits her teeth and grips her steering wheel harder, taking a sharp right turn at the end of Main and praying she didn’t need to go the other way.

“Dispatch,” she hollers, holding the radio an arm’s length away. “Do you copy?”

Nedley’s voice trickles across the wire. “What do you want with the old Earp Homestead? And why are we getting reports of a cruiser driving erratically through town?”

Nicole glances in her rearview and notices people filing out of storefronts, staring after her. She takes a deep breath before pressing the push-to-talk button. “Call came through about a possible robbery,” she lies.

She hears Nedley swear. “What’s going on, Haught? Wynonna just tore out of here on a motorcycle and-”

Whatever else he says is lost as a motorcycle flies past her going at least twenty over the speed limit. Nicole can barely make out the ends of Wynonna’s hair under the large black helmet she’s wearing. Nicole drops the radio into the passenger seat and leans forward over the steering wheel, her foot stomping onto the accelerator. She follows Wynonna, going at a breakneck speed out of town, past the ‘Welcome to Purgatory’ sign. She fishes a box knife out of her glove compartment as she races down the dirt road, leaning far across the cruiser. She pockets it and puts both hands on the wheel again.

In the distance she can see the lychgate and a small figure standing beneath it. Wynonna accelerates, coming to a hard stop near Waverly, but Nicole pulls off the main stretch of road and parks the cruiser in the overgrown bush, inching closer on foot. She taps her fingers against her service weapon, unholstering it and holding it out in front of her.

“Hold on, baby girl!” Wynonna shouts.

Nicole sees a guy sneaking out of the underbrush. She wills Wynonna to turn around but she isn’t, her gaze locked on Waverly. Nicole glances at Waverly quickly, her stomach in knots as she watches the bar stool under her feet sway. The man - _Malcolm_ , Nicole remembers - is still behind Wynonna.

Nicole makes a quick decision. She fires into the air quickly, dropping to her hands and knees. Sticks and leaves cut into her palms. She looks back up and Wynonna is behind her motorcycle, taking cover.

“Baby girl!” Wynonna shouts.

“I’m fine!” Waverly shouts back.

Nicole fires her gun into the air a second time. Waverly’s toes slide across the top of the bar stool and Nicole knows she needs to go _now_ , if she’s going to save Waverly.

She doesn’t think too hard about it. The voice in her head, the one that sounds like her momma, goes quiet as Nicole inches forward through wild landscaping. She feels a pull in her chest, tugging her forward.

“Give it up, Earp,” one the men says.

Nicole doesn’t spare him a glance. Waverly is so close now. If Nicole stretches her arm out she could touch her.

“Don’t, Wynonna!” Waverly shouts. The rope jerks and the stool rocks. Two of the men turn to look back at Waverly and Nicole crouches low, hoping the weeds and tall grass will hide her. She holds her breath but no one comes flying towards her or points her out and she stands slowly, keeping her head low.

Nicole can see Wynonna’s head poke up from the other side of the motorcycle. The barrel of a Wynonna’s gun glints against the afternoon sun as she stands quickly, fires, and drops back down again. The bullet buzzes by Waverly and sinks into the front porch of the house. Waverly spins slightly and one of her feet comes off the stool completely.

Wynonna looks up, growls, and charges towards the lychgate. Nicole watches the first man tackle her to the ground. They roll around, trading punches and kicks. Nicole waits for Wynonna to move onto the second guy, disarming him and dropping him to the ground. Malcolm moves closer to Waverly, his back to Nicole. As he grins at Wynonna, Nicole makes her move.

She pulls the box knife from her pocket and steps high onto the bar stool. Waverly’s eyes are wide and her lips are pale. Nicole wraps one arm around Waverly, reaching up to hold onto the rope. With her other hand she reaches up and starts sawing at the rope. Nicole glances over Malcolm’s head at Wynonna.

Wynonna meets her eye before she turns her attention to Malcolm. “I hope you’re reading to meet your maker, Malcolm.” she hisses. She raises a gun up that Nicole doesn’t recognize. It’s barrel is long and glowing and Nicole can’t give it any more attention than that. She saws at the rope furiously, her arm burning with exertion and Waverly heavy against her chest.

The last thread comes loose and Waverly’s legs give out.

Malcolm laughs and Nicole’s stomach turns.

“I hope you’re ready to curse yours,” Malcolm fires back.

Nicole knows he turns. She saw it, back at the police station. She knows he turns and kicks the stool out from under Waverly’s feet and in her mind she can hear the _crack_ that follows.

She’s not sure if Malcolm turns this time or if he kicks the stool or if he stops and stares at the empty space where Waverly had been hanging. She doesn’t care if he yells or kicks the dirt or turns and charges Wynonna in anger.

All she can hear is Waverly breathing in her ear and her pulse roaring in her veins.

She wraps her arms around Waverly instead and pulls her gracelessly through the tall grass, stumbling over rocks and sticks. Waverly’s hands are loose around her neck and her feet drag against the cracked dirt but Nicole muscles her way across it, back to her cruiser. She drops to the ground, her back against a tire as she pants, and Waverly falls on top of her. The rough rope between them cuts against Nicole’s arm and she can only imagine Waverly’s neck.

There’s a gunshot, a scream, two more shots, and then silence.

Waverly whimpers a little and Nicole sits up more, pulling Waverly more securely into her arms. She loosens the rope from around her neck, working her fingers between the rough threads and Waverly’s skin, warmed and raw from the contact. When it’s loose enough she pulls it over Waverly’s head, wincing as it leaves a scratch on the bottom of her chin. She thumbs the scratch gently and glances up to find Waverly staring at her with wide eyes.

“Waverly!” Wynonna shouts.

Waverly opens her mouth to shout back but only a scratchy whimper comes out.

“Here!” Nicole shouts back hoarsely, her eyes still locked on Waverly.

Heavy footsteps tear through the grass towards them and then Wynonna is in front of them, haloed by the afternoon sun above her head, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She drops to her knees with a thud that makes Nicole flinch. She grabs for Waverly’s face, pushing loose strands of hair out of her way as she turns Waverly to face her. Nicole’s fingers drift to Waverly’s shoulder instead, needing the contact but unsure why. _Wynonna needs it too,_ Nicole figures.

Waverly leans forward, still in Nicole’s arms, and her eyes flutter closed.

“Baby girl,” Wynonna whispers. Her hands brush Waverly’s neck, her chin, her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Waverly shakes her head softly. “You came back,” she says hoarsely.

“I’m never leaving again,” Wynonna promises, hands still moving over Waverly’s face. “Did you… Are you okay?”

Waverly nods shakily. Wynonna’s hands fall away from her face. “Officer Haught saved me,” she whispers.

Wynonna blinks and looks past Waverly.

Nicole gives her a weak smile. “Hey,” she offers. 

Wynonna barks out a sharp laugh and Waverly sags back into Nicole’s front and Nicole can’t taste the vomit in the back of her throat anymore.

 

-

Nicole gets a public library card and spends hours researching _fate_.

She can see the future and she’s settled with that idea. She’s going to know some things ahead of time - some things she wants to know and some she doesn’t. It hurts to know that Melissa Roy was going to kiss Jason Santiago _before_ she actually kissed him. But it doesn’t hurt to know that she doesn’t need to study for her Algebra test; she’s going to ace it anyway.

She learns that the past, present, and future are all happening at the same time; that time is an illusion. She learns that time is linear and written in stone. Everything is contradictory - she can change the future and at the same she can’t.

Her head hurts from everything she reads.

Her momma shakes her head and smiles when she finds her holed up in the window seat in the living room, her nose in books like _Destiny: Stepping into Your Purpose_.

She spends a whole year researching the concept and comes up with no clear theories on whether or not she’s capable of changing the things she sees in her vision without affecting the course of the world. Some things she can’t change, like Nathan breaking her mom’s favorite vase. Nicole isn’t even home when it happens. But other things are ones she _can_ change, like tripping down the stairs.

When she pulls Waverly down off that stool, when she saves Waverly from hanging in front of her sister, Nicole forgets that even though she didn’t trip on the stairs - she took the elevator that day - she fell on the sidewalk later and still scraped her knee.

 

-

There’s a doughnut on her desk the next morning. She wipes at her eyes and looks around the bullpen but only Pine and Augustine are there and they certainly wouldn’t bring her a doughnut. She looks back at the doughnut and frowns. Then she hears a small noise, someone clearing their throat, and she looks up towards the Black Badge office.

Wynonna is leaning in the doorway, a doughnut in her hand and powered sugar on her nose. She lifts her doughnut towards Nicole, a sort of salute, before biting into it. Nicole picks her doughnut - chocolate frosted, thank god - and tips it back towards Wynonna. Wynonna holds her gaze for a moment and then nods slightly at her and ducks into the Black Badge office. Nicole takes a tentative bite of her doughnut.

They hadn’t spoken yesterday, at the place Wynonna called ‘the homestead’. They talked - about leaving the motorcycle behind and if Nicole could lift Waverly into the back of the cruiser and that the Earp residence is the ‘homestead’ and maybe they’ll move back there and how the back seat is smaller than Wynonna remembers it being - but they don’t _talk_.

They don’t talk about the radio on the floor of the passenger seat that goes off every few minutes, asking for Nicole to report in. They don’t talk about who - or what - Malcolm was. They don’t talk about how Nicole knew what was happening. They don’t talk about the cut pieces of rope that Nicole shoves in the trunk of her cruiser, under her gym bag.

Nicole has so many questions she’s sure she’ll never get answers to. But when they pull up to the station and Nicole lets Wynonna and Waverly out of the back seat, Waverly slides a hand down Nicole’s arm, squeezing her wrist gently.

Nedley breaks her thoughts, calling for her across the bullpen. He hooks his thumb over his shoulder silently and she gets up, ignoring Pine and Augustine whispering behind her back. Nedley is sitting behind his desk when she gets into his office and he motions for her to shut the door. He barely waits for her to close it before laying into her.

“What the _hell_ happened yesterday, Haught?”

Nicole fights back a wince.

“You call something in and then you go quiet? I could take your badge right now,” he threatens.

Her hand goes to her belt.

Nedley sighs. “I’m not going to,” he huffs. “But only because Pine and Augustine and Hall are idiots and they need someone around who has a damn clue. But you going off at breakneck speed towards the Earps and then _not_ calling it in is not proving to me you have a lot of sense.”

Nicole nods shakily.

“I hired you for a reason,” he tells her. She feels like she’s eight again and she pushed Nathan down on purpose. “And _damnit_ , chasing after Earps wasn’t it.” He sighs and gestures towards the chair in front of his desk. She sits reflexively. “Now, do you want to tell me what happened?”

Nicole doesn’t like to lie. Lies stick in the back of her throat like peanut butter and she carries them around until they spill out of her. But something about the way Waverly and Wynonna sat so still and so quiet in the backseat of her cruiser on the long ride back into town makes her swallow the truth and look Nedley in the eyes and shrug.

“Wynonna said Waverly’s car got stuck out there and asked if I’d pick them up.”

His eyes narrow. “The Jeep has been parked in front of Shorty’s since two days ago.”

She shrugs again, looking over his shoulder.

He crosses his arms over his chest. “And do you want to explain to me why Waverly Earp has a bruise around her neck like she was lassoed and dragged?”

Nicole sits up a little straighter. “I really have no idea,” she says, the lack of a lie breaking up part of the knot in her chest.

Nedley studies her for a long, tense moment before he sighs and his head drops a little. “Dammit, Haught. I _know_ you’re lying to me.” He stands and she does to, instantly rising to her feet and swaying to keep her balance. “If you’re gonna work for me, you need to work on that poker face.” He rounds his desk and opens his office door. “And next time,” he growls, loud enough for Pine and Augustine to hear. “Answer your damn radio.”

“Yes, sir,” Nicole says softly, slipping around him and back to her desk. She ignores Pine and Augustine and sits back at her desk, pressing the heel of her palm into her forehead.

She needs to talk to Waverly.

She stands and pulls her coat on. “Coffee run,” she mutters to Pine. “On me." 

“Don’t forget doughnuts,” he calls after her.

 

-

There’s a few people at the bar even though it’s mid-morning when she steps into Shorty’s, but she knows Waverly is here. Nedley was right, her Jeep is still out front in the shadow of the bar, a small accumulation of snow on the windshield from the quick snowstorm they had two nights ago.

She spots Waverly behind the bar quickly and goes to take off her hat only to remember she left if in the car. She pushes her hands into her pockets instead, and approaches the bar quietly, leaning up against it and waiting for Waverly to notice her. Nicole watches her work efficiently, smiling and pulling two taps at a time. She sweeps tips off the counter and into the jar by the cash register, pressing the start button on the dishwasher as she walks past it. The light hits in her in the just the right way and Nedley is right; it looks like someone ran her down in a calf roping contest.

Waverly finally spots her and the bright smile on her face flickers slightly. Nicole tries not to take offense to that.

“Hey, Officer Haught.”

“Nicole,” she corrects.

Waverly smiles. “Okay. Nicole. What can I getcha?”

Nicole’s eyes are locked on Waverly’s throat and she nearly misses the question.

Waverly taps her fingertips on the bar to get Nicole’s attention.

Nicole startles. “What?”

Waverly’s mouth twitches. “I asked what I could get you.”

Nicole’s hand moves before she thinks about what she’s doing. She knocks her knuckles against the oak counter as she pulls her hand out of her pocket and then she’s brushing her thumb against Waverly’s chin, her fingers resting on the rope burn on Waverly’s neck.

Waverly hisses at the contact. “ _What the hell_?” she asks. She grabs Nicole’s hand and pulls her along the bar to the end, tugging Nicole around to the back of the bar and then through the swinging door into the storeroom. She lets go of Nicole’s hand and turns towards her, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “You can’t just do that,” she growls.

Nicole puts her hands up in surrender. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t…” She tries to take a deep breath and center herself. “I’m sorry.”

Waverly sighs. She shakes her head. “No, I’...” She sighs again. “I’m fine.”

Nicole’s hand twitches at her side. “I just… I was worried. Nedley said he saw your…” She trails off.

Waverly looks away. “Oh, yeah. It’s kind of, well. It’s hard to hide. Trust me, I tried.”

Nicole moves, wandering around the storeroom. She picks up a bottle of scotch and reads the label before she looks back up at Waverly. “Nedley asked me what happened yesterday.”

“What did you tell him?” Waverly asks, her voice hard.

Nicole shrugs. “I didn’t know what to tell him. I’m still not even really sure what happened.” She scratches the back of her neck. “I mean, I should have reported a crime. You were… abducted? And threatened? And Wynonna shot a guy, I think, or three? But there were no bodies I could see and…” She sags down onto a stack of canned beer. “Oh, wow. That’s three separate crimes, at least.”

“No, no,” Waverly starts, coming to stand in front of her. She rests a hand on Nicole’s shoulder. Nicole looks up. Waverly is giving her a soft smile. “You did everything right. You saved _my life_.”

Nicole feels her face flush at that.

“I wish I could tell you,” Waverly breathes out. “But it’s…” Her face twists in something like pain. “It’s not _my_ story to tell. Wynonna should really tell you.”

Nicole scoffs. “She’s not going to tell me.”

Waverly shrugs. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks away and Nicole can feel Waverly pulling away. She reaches for Waverly’s arm, squeezing it gently.

“Hey,” she says quietly. “I’d do it again, you know.”

Waverly scoffs. “What?”

“Save you,” Nicole whispers.

Waverly goes quiet at that and her eyes are clouded over and Nicole knows, she _knows_ , that was too fast, too soon.

And _impossible_.

_“You can’t change what the world has decided has to happen_ ,” her momma’s voice echoes in her head.

But then Waverly gives her a soft smile and puts her hand on top of Nicole’s.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t have to happen again.”

Nicole smiles crookedly at that. “Yeah,” she breathes out. She looks at Waverly’s neck. “Could I… Nevermind.”

Waverly uncrosses her arms and tips her chin up, just a fraction. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “Go ahead.”

Nicole’s hands move quick. She traces the raw scrape across Waverly’s neck, wincing. The overhead lights dim and Waverly is opening her mouth but her voice is so far away.

Nicole’s head spins and she’s suddenly standing on Main Street in the dark and the guy Waverly had talked to the other day - _Henry_ , her brain supplies - is talking to a tall, imposing man in a large fur coat and a skunk-striped beard.

“ _I’m a man of my word, Henry_ ,” he’s saying.

Henry nods, the brim of his hat low over his eyes. “ _I can give her to you,_ ” Henry promises.

The other man grins crookedly and Nicole feels herself shiver. “ _That woman changed you._ ”

Henry looks down the street and Nicole follows his gaze, seeing herself at the corner of the street, under a streetlight, eyes narrowed as she approaches the two men. He looks back at the other man and holds out a hand. “ _Well then, Bobo. We are officially in business._ ”

Nicole blinks and Waverly is staring at her, the overhead lights suddenly too bright. Nicole shakes her head and drops her hand from Waverly’s neck. She takes a few steps back, thrusting her hands into her pockets and clenching them into fists. “I better let you get back to work.”

Waverly blinks a few times. “Oh. Right.” She grabs a case of beer off the floor and Nicole resists the urge to offer to help, staring instead at the muscles in Waverly’s arms as she braces the case against her hips. Nicole does get the door, though, and holds it open wide for Waverly to pass through. Waverly’s shoulder brushes against the front of Nicole’s uniform.

“Well, I’ll-”

“Stop by later,” Waverly says at the same time.

Nicole tips her head to one side. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Waverly nods.

Nicole smiles a little. “Sure.”

Waverly gives a smile in return. “Okay.”

“Cool.”

“Beer,” someone else adds. He taps his empty pint glass on the bar top. He gives Nicole a crooked grin, his eyes unblinking. “I thought we were playing a one-word game.”

Waverly sighs. “Sure. Coming right up.” She takes his glass and dumps it, pulling a fresh one from the ice. She pulls the tap and lets it run.

Nicole narrows her eyes and straightens her shoulders a little, puffing her chest.

The man tips his head. “Officer,” he greets. “How’s your day going?”

“Fine,” she says brusquely.

He smiles widely. “That’s good to hear. Sometimes, our days are destined to just be bad ones. It’s nice to know we have some good ones in there, too.”

Nicole frowns. She goes to open her mouth and say something but Waverly is next to her again, putting the fresh beer on the bar. Nicole nods her head. “Later, then,” she says to Waverly. She looks at the man again and frowns.

She pushes out of the doors onto Main Street and lets out a breath she didn’t she know she was holding. The guy at the bar, whose name she didn’t think to catch, had stared at her for too long; too knowing. Nicole hadn’t seen him around town before and she hasn’t been here long, but it’s a small town and newcomers are big deals. She would know. But she doesn’t know this guy and Waverly didn’t greet him by name.

She looks over her shoulder and shakes her head. She needs to stop being so paranoid.

 

-

By the time she gets off shift, it’s later than she wants it to be. Nedley had dropped a case on Augustine’s desk and Pine got him to drop it on Nicole’s instead.

She pours over the report all afternoon: a break-in at the butcher’s had resulted in fourteen missing carcuses and no evidence. Nicole thumbs through the pictures but nothing jumps out. The reporting officer, one of the guys on the graveyard shift named Diaz had taken the owner’s statement. All it reads is that the carcuses are gone, the door was still locked, and the butcher might be moving; _had it up to here_ , Diaz had scribbled down.

Nicole logs into her computer and reads through all of the other reports the butcher has made; all the same claims. Nicole frowns as she reads report after report. She pulls a large sheet of paper out of the copy room and starts to plot out times and dates and number of carcuses stolen until she has a four year history of disappearing cow carcuses from the first one to the most recent. She’s frowning at the timeline when she notices the time. It’s nearly 11pm and she hastily packs the timeline into her desk and locks the drawer. It’s a habit, really, but she still looks around the quickly emptying bullpen and double-checks the drawer before she leaves. She nods at Linda, stuck on the night shift for the week, before she heads out into the night.

It’s cold again. The weather reports mentioned snow was coming. Nicole pulls her department-issue coat a little tighter around her middle and puts her head down against the cold. She’s nearly at the corner of Main when she looks up and sees Henry in the glow of a streetlight just ahead. He’s talking to a tall man in an obnoxious fur coat - _Bobo_ , she remembers.

“I’m a man of my word, Henry,” Bobo says.

Henry nods, the brim of his hat low over his eyes. “I can give her to you,” Henry promises.

Nicole is glad she’s seen this before; from this distance she can’t make out all of the words but she can hear enough.

The other man grins crookedly and Nicole feels herself shiver. She’s sure it isn’t the cold. “That woman changed you.”

Henry looks down the street at her. He shows no sign that he knows her and he quickly looks back at the other man and holds out a hand. “Well then, Bobo. We are officially in business.”

Bobo takes Henry’s hand and shakes it firmly. Nicole is closer now and she can see Bobo’s face. She instantly shudders and when she gets to them, she sidesteps and gives them space. Henry catches her eye again and tips his hat.

“Officer Haught,” he says calmly.

She doesn’t know how he knows her name and she’s not too interested in finding out. Bobo is staring hard at her, almost as if he’s cataloging her face for later.

“Henry,” she says lightly. She continues past them, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder. Instead, she ducks into Shorty’s and hurries down the steps into the warmth.

She sees Waverly instantly and smiles. Waverly waves back at her and points to an open seat near the end of the bar where the cash register is. She rests her hat in front of her and shrugs out of her coat, undoing the top few buttons of her uniform shirt.

Waverly drops a beer in front of her. “On the house,” she says with a smile. She leans on the bar in front of Nicole, her chin in one hand. “I thought you’d be by earlier,” she admits.

Nicole can’t help but grinning. “Waiting for me?”

Waverly flushes faintly. “What? No. We had a slow hour and, and,” she huffs. She grabs a rag, picks up Nicole’s beer, and starts furiously wiping the bar clean.

Nicole rests a hand on Waverly’s arm. “I’m teasing. I _was_ going to come by earlier. But then I got tossed a case. Did you know that in the last four years, Spade’s Butcher Shop has been robbed nineteen times?”

Waverly frowns. “Really?”

Nicole nods and takes a long sip of her beer. She lets out a small hiss of appreciation before she wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks up to see Waverly staring at her, a smirk on her face. “What?” Nicole asks defensively. “It’s been a long day.”

Waverly opens her mouth to say something when someone crashes into Nicole’s side. Her hand automatically goes to her holster but the same person is grabbing at her shoulders.

“Hey,” they slur.

Nicole twists out of their grip and turns, grabbing them by the arm and forcing them facedown on the bar. She pants heavily and groans when she sees her beer spilled across the bar. “You just cleaned,” she groans at Waverly. “I’m sorry.”

The person she’s holding down uses their free hand to tap a stool. “I give, I give.”

Nicole lets go and the man steps back, his face red. He runs a hand through his hair, slicking it back into place, and glares at her. “Jesus, lady.” He smoothes down his shirt and looks at Waverly. “What the hell, Waverly.”

Waverly looks up from where she’s using dry towels to soak up the spilled beer. She glances quickly at Nicole before frowning at him. “What did I do? You’re the one who grabbed a cop, Champ.”

Nicole frowns as she looks between the two of them. Champ looks back at her and Nicole watches the way it takes him a moment to get his eyes to focus. She sees the light go off when he zeroes in on the patch on her shoulder.

“Shit,” he breathes out. He puts his hands up in surrender. “Total accident. Honest.”

Nicole straightens her own shirt and sits back down. “Yeah, whatever.”

Waverly puts a new beer down in front of her. “Here you go.”

Nicole nods gratefully at Waverly.

“What about me?” Champ asks.

Waverly sighs but pulls a fresh glass out of the ice and fills it. She hands it to him unsmiling.

Champ drains half of it in one gulp and then slams it back down on top of the bar. Some of it sloshes over the rim of the glass and Nicole grabs a bar napkin without thinking, wiping up the small spill. Champ doesn’t even notice. He looks back over to the pool table and then to Nicole.

“I’m Champ. Hardy. We haven’t met before,” he says, his voice low. He offers his hand.

Nicole frowns but offers her own hand. “Officer Haught.”

“Yeah you are,” he mutters.

Waverly clears her throat loudly. Champ startles a bit before he looks back at her and grins. “Not as hot as you, babe. Obviously.” He leans in too close to Nicole and then pushes up on one hand so he’s hovering over the bar. With his free hand, he grabs the back of Waverly’s neck and pulls her in for a kiss.

Nicole turns her head quickly. The guys at the pool table and cheering, clapping each other on the back. Nicole wants to throw up. Champ moves away from her eventually, winking at her as he puts both feet back down on the floor.

“You’ve probably heard of me,” Champ continues. “I’m Waverly’s boyfriend.”

Nicole shrugs. “Nope.”

Champ’s grin fades quickly. Nicole thinks she might hear Waverly snort but when she looks, Waverly is drying a glass she pulled from the dishwasher.

“Oh. Well. I am.” He puffs his chest out. “You’re new here.”

“Can you only tell because you haven’t slept with her yet?” someone asks from behind them.

Champ rolls his eyes. “Why’re you _always_ here, Wynonna? We liked it better when you were gone.”

Waverly clears her throat again and this time, when Champ glances at her, she glares.

Wynonna elbows Champ out of the way and sits down in the seat he was standing in front of.

Champ sighs. “Whatever. Are you coming over tonight or not, Waves?”

Nicole spares a glance at Wynonna and sees her giving Waverly the same questioning face.

Waverly looks back down at the bar. “I’m gonna stay at the homestead tonight, I think.”

Champ shrugs. “Your loss.” He grabs his half-empty beer and goes back to the pool table, high-fiving Kyle York.

Nicole turns back to face Waverly and comes face-to-face with Wynonna. “Oh. Hi.”

“Oh. Hi,” Wynonna mocks. “I see you met Waverly’s dead weight.”

Waverly snaps a damp bar towel at Wynonna. “Stop.”

Wynonna puts her hands up defensively. “You could do so much better than Champ ‘Rodeo Star’ Hardy and you know it.”

“Well, it’s a small town, Wynonna. And not all of us can just up and leave our lives behind,” Waverly snaps back.

Nicole whistles under her breath and takes a sip of her beer.

Waverly sighs. “Sorry.”

Wynonna shrugs. “Nope. It’s fine.” Her eyes tell Nicole it isn’t, though. “What about you, Haught. Got anyone keeping your sheets warm on these cold, Purgatory winter nights?”

“Sure,” Nicole says. “Banjo. But she’s a bed-hogger.”

Waverly’s face lights up. “A dog?”

“A cat,” Nicole corrects.

“Awh,” Waverly coos. “I love cats. They’re so cuddly and warm but they can vicious too. Oh, do you have pictures?”

Nicole chuckles but wrestles her phone out of her pocket and starts to flip through her photos, trying to find a good picture.

Wynonna groans. “ _Boring_.”

Waverly waves a hand at her. “Shush.” She takes Nicole’s phone. “Oh my god, she’s adorable. It’s a girl, right?”

Nicole’s answer is lost as a scuffle breaks out by the pool table. She watches Pete York square up against Champ and it takes her a moment to realize this is going to be a full-blown fight. The rest of the guys they were playing with form a circle around the two and start chanting. Nicole groans.

One beer. One beer with Waverly Earp. She can’t even seem to get that.

She pulls her cellphone out and types in the number for dispatch, waiting to get transferred over to Big Mo’s desk. “This is Officer Haught. I’m off-duty, requesting assistance with a 10-10 at Shorty’s.” She pauses. “Champ Hardy and Pete York. Yeah, Mo. Just send whoever is on. I’ll break it up but I can’t drive them in. I left my cruiser at the station.” She hangs up and sighs.

She stands up slowly and fishes her handcuffs out of her utility belt. She curses herself not carrying a second pair when a set appear in front of her face. She follows the hand holding them and looks at Waverly, confused.

“Nedley keeps a pair here, in case,” Waverly says calmly.

Nicole takes them and holds them in front of her, staring at them for a moment before she shakes her head and shrugs. “Fine,” she says. She fishes a few dollars out of her wallet and tries to lay them down on the bar.

“Nope,” Waverly says matter-of-factly. “The first one was on me. The second one was on Champ.”

A cheer goes up from the pool table area. Pete York pushes himself off the table and charges Champ.

Nicole gives Waverly a soft smile. “I’ll have to return the favor. To you,” she adds hastily. “Not Champ.”

“I figured,” Waverly says softly.

Wynonna gags. “Sorry,” she says, not looking sorry at all. “I’m picturing you buying Champ a beer,” she adds unconvincingly. She points to Nicole’s beer. “You gonna finish that?”

Nicole sighs. “Take it.” She looks at Waverly again. “Sorry.”

Waverly waves a hand at her. “Don’t even - oh!” She grabs a bar napkin and pulls a pen off the register. She scribbles something on it, folds it, and hands it to Nicole.

Nicole opens it and reads the numbers. She looks up and grins.

“Text me when you wanna pay me back,” Wavery says.

Nicole pockets the number. “I will.”

“Uh, Officer,” Wynonna says pointedly.

Nicole looks up in time to see Pete York pull a pool cue off the wall and she growls under her breath. She shoves her way across the bar and through the circling crowd, grabbing the cue just as it’s about to come down over Champ’s head. “Break it up, you two.”

It takes a few minutes but by the time Diaz comes through the front door, she’s got Champ and Pete in cuffs and waiting on the pool table. Nicole brightens a little; she likes Diaz and his wife works down at the grocery store. She went out of her way to introduce herself to Nicole her first week on the job. As she hauls Champ to his feet, Diaz doing the same with Pete, she flashes a smile in Waverly’s direction.

Waverly gives her a small wave back.

Nicole steps out into the street and barely feels the cold biting at her arms.

 

-

Nicole calls her mom by the end of the next day. She’s been hearing her in the back of her mind and it’s almost a relief for that voice to go away and be replaced by the voice over the phone lines.

“Hey there, baby,” her momma says.

Nicole can hear the TV on in the background. “Hey, momma.” Nicole pulls a pad of paper across her desk and starts doodling in the margin. Her cat Banjo twists in between her legs and rubs against her calf. She idly reaches down and scratches behind Banjo’s ears.

“How’s my girl?”

Nicole grins. “I’m good. The job is good. I still don’t have a girlfriend. Banjo is the only other thing warming my bed. I’m drinking one cup of water for every two cups of coffee. And I’m still taking my vitamins.”

Her momma laughs and Nicole feels her heart swell. “I wasn’t going to ask about all of those things,” her momma insists.

“Sure you weren’t.” Nicole sketches out a pint glass.

“I wasn’t.” There’s a pause on the line. “Any girls you’re interested in?”

Nicole thinks of Waverly and the way she said “ _stop by later_ ” and her smile.

Then she thinks of Champ.

“How’s Bob?” Nicole asks instead.

Nicole can hear her momma yell to her husband. “Hey, Bob! Nicole wants to know how you are!”

Nicole’s stepdad, Bob, picks up the other line. “Hey there, girl. How’s the tiny town life. Your momma is worried you’re not taking your vitamins.”

Nicole laughs loudly enough that Banjo skulks away, her eyes narrowed. “I’m taking them,” she promises.

“Thanks, Bob,” her momma grumbles.

“Welcome,” Bob says brightly. “Not that I wouldn’t love to talk, but Calgary is playing the Ducks and we’re tied in the 3rd.”

Nicole smiles and draws out a hockey stick. “Go, go. It was nice talking to you, Bob.”

“You too, kiddo,” he says. There’s a click and Nicole chews on her bottom lip, trying to figure out what to say.

“What is it, baby?” her momma asks.

Nicole sighs. “How do you know there’s something-”

“Nicole,” her momma says firmly.

Nicole huffs. “It’s not fair if you can _see_ our conversation before we even have it.”

“What did you do, baby?” her momma asks.

Nicole is quiet for a moment, drawing a picture of a gun and then scribbling across it. “I saw something. And then… Then I changed it.”

Her momma sighs. “Baby, what have I always told you?”

“You can’t change what the world has decided will happen,” Nicole recites flatly.

“I don’t speak to hear myself speak, Nicole.”

Nicole sighs. “I know that. But I… Momma. I saw someone die. And I couldn’t just, just _do nothing_. Waverly is-” She stops abruptly.

Her momma catches her. “Waverly who?” she asks. “And what is she?”

“Waverly Earp,” Nicole grumbles. “And she’s, I don’t know, _special_.”

Her momma is quiet for so long that Nicole is afraid she’s hung up and walked away. But then there’s a soft sigh across the line and her momma is breathing out her name in the way she does before she’s about to say something Nicole doesn’t want to hear but needs to.

“She might be special, Nicole. But if she’s destined to die, the world will figure out a way to do it. And you can’t stand in it’s way,” she says softly.

“That’s bullshit,” Nicole mutters.

“It’s _fate_ ,” her momma corrects.

Nicole sighs heavily and drops the pen in her hand, reaching for Banjo instead. Her cat jumps back into her lap and Nicole busies herself with finding the spot behind Banjo’s ear that she likes having scratched.

“How’s Nathan?” Nicole asks after a few minutes of quiet.

Her momma launches into a story about Nathan - still finishing his Masters close to home and living in her momma’s basement - setting off the smoke alarms after scorching hot dogs on the stovetop. Nicole listens to her momma talk and eventually moves to her bed, stretching out across it and then moving to make room for Banjo.

After an hour, she hangs up with her momma, promising to call sooner next time.

That night, she dreams of standing in a graveyard, Waverly Earp next to her. She’s holding a sledgehammer in her hands. She wakes up just as brings it down on top of a headstone that reads Waverly’s name.


	3. iii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smurf knows all.

“I’ve had it up to here!” Bobby Spade shouts in her face. He’s waving his arms around wildly, his face red and splotchy. “Do you  _ know _ how many times my shop has been broken into?  _ Do you _ ?”

Nicole steps back calmly. “This will be the twentieth time, sir.”

Bobby deflates a little. “How did you know that?”

“I went back through the reports. No matter what you do, security or otherwise, that freezer of yours is ransacked.”

“Robbed,” Bobby corrects. His shoulders sag. “At least you did your homework. The last guy out here barely even wrote down a thing I said.”

“Officer Diaz is very good at listening and recording later on,” Nicole defends. “His report was very thorough. I just don’t think anyone has connected the dots, is all.” She puts a reassuring hand on Bobby’s arm and guides him out of the storefront and into the storeroom. “Now, what else goes missing besides the carcuses.”

Bobby looks at her strangely. “Excuse me?” She can see goosebumps forming on the back of his neck.

Nicole gives him a small smile. “Come on, Mr. Spade. Someone isn’t breaking into your freezer just for cow bones. What else is in there?”

Bobby shrugs, avoiding her eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest and twists almost imperceptibly away from her. But Nicole always liked the body language classes, reading behavior and timing and physical signs of deception, and Bobby is definitely, absolutely, no-doubt-about-it lying.

Nicole faces him head on and waits until he looks at her. “Mr. Spade. If I have to spend my whole day convincing you to tell the truth, it’ll just be more consequences on your end,” she says calmly. 

Bobby hesitates but after a minute, he gives a small sigh. “Elk meat,” he mumbles.

Nicole lets out a low whistle. “Bobby,” she says. “How much?”

Bobby groans and presses the heels of his palms against his eyes. “This time?” he asks. “Over four hundred pounds of tenderloin, total, I think.” He curses. 

“How much is it going for?”

“Market is high this time of year.” Bobby curses again. “It’s going for about $37 a pound.”

Nicole blinks a few times, her mouth hanging open. She pulls out her phone and taps at the screen until her calculator comes up. She whistles again. “Bobby. That’s… That’s almost fifteen thousand if you sold all of it."

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbles.

Nicole shakes her head. “That’s some serious stuff. Like, thousands of dollars and potential jail time.” She stares at Bobby. “Why… Why would report a robbery, then? Why draw attention to yourself like that?”

Bobby sits down on a pickle gallon. He looks up at her. “I didn’t report it, the first few times. But then people thought they could just keep taking, you know? And so I called the cops because they could have just taken the elk and gone, but they were stealing my cows, too.” He slams a fist into his other open palm. “They think they can mess with me but they picked the wrong guy.”

Nicole shakes her head and reaches for her phone. She’ll have to call Fish and Game and get them in on this and she’ll likely lose the case to them all together. She sighs.

“I’ll kill those sons of a bitches,” Bobby mutters.

Nicole pauses. “You know who’s stealing from you.”

Bobby looks at her, his eyes dark and hard. “Those damn York boys. That Kyle one, he thinks he’s invincible. Well, when I get through with him, I’ll-”

“Stop speaking so we don’t need to add  _ intimidation _ to the long list of crimes Fish and Game is going to charge you with,” Nicole cuts in. 

Bobby’s mouth snaps closed.

Nicole types in the password for her phone and she pauses before opening the keypad. There’s a text message she must have missed when she opened her phone for the calculator. She angles herself away from Bobby and opens the messages app, a small grin appearing on her face when she sees Waverly’s name.

**Waverly** _[13:21:14]:_ _I thought you must have thrown that napkin out_

Nicole smiles a little wider and quickly taps out a message back.

**Nicole** _[13:26:09]: Remember that break-in at Spade’s I told you about? Solving it as we speak._

She dials dispatch and asks Roy to patch her through to Fish and Game. She spends a few minutes on hold, bad elevator music playing in her ear. She hears the telltale beep of a message and puts the phone call on speaker so she can open the text.

**Waverly** _[13:27:51]: So you’re like a real-life Batman_

Nicole snickers a little. 

**Nicole** _[13:28:05]: I prefer Catwoman, actually_

**Waverly** _[13:28:41]: im sure you doooo_

**Waverly** _[13:28:46] That was Wynonna, sorry_

Nicole sputters a little when she reads the messages that come in back-to-back. She fumbles with the phone and it nearly drops to the ground. There’s a click and the hold music is gone, replaced by a disinterested voice. Nicole nearly drops the phone again and quickly turns off speakerphone. She identifies herself and the situation and gets transferred to another person just to do it all over again. Her phone beeps a few times while she’s waiting, jumping between two different officers who don’t want to deal with her. 

Someone who doesn’t identify themselves is asking her for the details of the case one more time but their question turns into a long vowel sound and the world starts to dim around Nicole.

_ “Dumb bitch _ ,” Kyle York is saying. Nicole looks over her shoulder to see herself standing there, gun drawn and aimed through her body at Kyle’s forehead. “ _ Too much snooping around, thinking you’re a real cop _ .”

There’s a click and a gun is pressed to her head. Nicole watches herself lock her jaw and stand her ground. 

_ “Kyle, I don’t like this _ ,” Pete says.  _ “This isn’t like Bobby. He would be easy. This is a cop, Kyle. We can’t kill a cop.” _

Kyle’s eyes are dark and he grins crookedly. “ _ Watch me, then _ .”

Nicole blinks and Bobby is suddenly in front of her, a frown on his face. She can hear the Fish and Game officer on the line, calling ‘hello’, and she startles a little. She shakes it off and continues calling it in, her eyes on Bobby Spade, sweating as he sits and wrings his hands. 

She ends her call and motions for Bobby to stand up. She turns him around and reads him his rights and cuffs him and walks him through the storefront and out to her cruiser. She looks up as she helps him into the backseat and her stomach flops.

Kyle York leans against the glass window of Walden’s Hardware store, staring through her. Pete comes out of the store. Nicole can hear the faint jingling of the bell above the door. He claps his brother on her shoulder and then turns to see what he’s looking at. Nicole holds their stares, even though every part of her body is screaming to turn away. Instead, she shields Bobby’s body and makes sure he’s in the car before she shuts the door and reaches for her driver’s side. She glances down for a second to make sure she’s grabbing for the door handle and when she looks back up, Kyle and Pete are gone.

She turns the engine over and pulls her phone back out. There’re five messages from Waverly. She feels herself smile despite the goosebumps up and down her arms.

**Waverly** _[13:29:32]: Seriously, I’m sorry. She’s kind of annoying. Sisters, right?_

**Waverly** _[13:30:02]: Unless you don’t have a sister? I don’t even know that_

**Waverly** _ [13:31:47]: There’s a lot I don’t know about you, Officer Haught _

**Waverly** _[13:31:56]: I mean Nicole_

**Waverly** _[13:40:16]: Okay now you’re probably never going to talk to me again_

Nicole quickly types back.

**Nicole** _[13:49:22]: Spade’s Butcher Shop case - closed._

She winces as she hits send. “Case closed,” she murmurs, shaking her head at herself. “Idiot.”

**Nicole** _[13:49:43]: That’s why I didn’t text back. I don’t know much about sisters. I have a brother, though_

**Waverly** _ [13:49:44]: You solved it already? I get why Nedley keeps bragging about you now _

**Waverly** _[13:49:59]: A brother. Then you definitely don’t know the pain of having sisters_

**Waverly** _[13:50:10]: And trust me, they’re a pain. Right now, mine is trying to convince me to blow off work and go out with her_

**Nicole** _[13:50:34]: It’s not even 2 in the afternoon_

**Nicole** _[13:50:38]: Nedley talks about me?_

Nicole waits a minute for a response but her phone stays quiet. She checks her rearview mirror before she pulls out onto the street. Bobby is slumped over miserably to one side, his forehead against the window. She considers making conversation but decides against it and turns on the radio instead. Purgatory has one radio station and it seems like every time she turns it on, Dolly Parton is singing. Bobby starts humming in the backseat and Nicole is glad it’s a short drive from Spade’s to the station.

When she pulls into her parking spot, her phone dings. She fishes it out of the console and opens it.

**Waverly** _[13:56:09]: “It’s always 5 o’clock at Shorty’s” - Wynonna Earp_

**Waverly** _ [13:56:09]: Of course he brags about you. He says you’re the best rookie officer he’s seen since my Uncle Curtis was on the force _

Nicole feels a sudden rush of heat across her face. 

Nedley is bragging about  _ her _ . 

To  _ Waverly Earp _ . 

And she just uncovered a poaching ring in the back of a butcher’s shop without breaking too much of a sweat.

_ Maybe Monday’s aren’t so bad after all _ , she thinks.

 

-

Tuesday’s aren’t so bad either.

On Tuesday, Nicole is classifying incidents by type, deciding if a 10-54 really needs it’s own column or if she can put that time Willy Grand’s cow herd blocked all of traffic in and out of town as a 10-53 instead. She’s debating what to do - adding in a 10-54 would stretch her graph across two printed pages - when a coffee cup lands on her desk.

She follows the hand wrapped around it, up the arm, and finally stopping at Waverly Earp’s smiling face.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Waverly says. She perches on the desk next to it, one leg hanging to keep her balanced.

“I could use about ten,” Nicole sighs. She takes the cup and drains half of it in a long pull, trying not to wince at the scalding temperature.

Waverly lifts an eyebrow. “Wow. Tough Tuesday?”

Nicole turns her computer screen a little so that Waverly can see it. “I should put Willy’s cows in the road as a 10-54 and not a 10-53, right? Like, without thinking about the fact that it throws off my entire margin setup.”

Waverly leans in a little. She squints at the screen and shrugs. “I don’t know what those codes mean.”

“Oh.” Sometimes Nicole forgets that not everyone learned 10 codes as a hobby in high school. “Right, ‘course.” She leans back a little in her chair.    


She looks up at Waverly and swears she had a dream like this once - a pretty girl bringing her coffee and listening to to her talk about a job she loves. It’s  _ the _ dream. 

“So a 10-53 is a road blocked. Like-"

“A tree falling down,” Waverly offers.

Nicole nods. “Exactly. And a 10-54 is livestock on the road.”

Waverly pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and tips her head to the side. “And Willy Grand’s cows making their great escape blocked the road, right? Huh.”

Nicole takes another long sip from the coffee and lets herself stare at Waverly. Nicole has met beautiful women before and she’s talked to them and she’s even kissed a couple. But Waverly Earp is a kind of beautiful Nicole has never seen before in her life and she knows she’s already hooked.

“I think it should go in both,” Waverly finally says.

Nicole groans. “I hadn’t even considered that.”

Waverly grins. “Well good thing you asked, then.”

“Good thing,” Nicole echoes. She glances around the bullpen. Pine switched shifts with Diaz and he’s at his own desk, keeping busy. Linda is at the counter, looking absorbed in her book, though Nicole knows she’s got her full attention on Nicole’s desk. She leans in a little towards Waverly. “Hey, uh, we never really, you know. Talked.”

Waverly’s face twists into a small frown. “About?”

Nicole’s eyes drift to Waverly’s neck. The rope burn is nearly gone and the scrape on her chin is scabbed over but the whole thing is just a little pinker than the rest of Waverly’s skin. 

Waverly pulls back a little. “Oh. That.”

Linda’s head moves up an inch and then to the side, as if she’s trying to hear them better.

Nicole lowers her voice. “It’s just… I’m really, really glad you’re okay.”

Waverly’s smile is softer this time, her chin tipped down slightly. “Thanks to you.”

“Like I said, I’d do it again,” Nicole says. 

“And like I said, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that again,” Waverly counters. 

Nicole’s lips twitch and she reaches out to rest her hand on Waverly’s knee, but thinks better of it and grabs her stapler instead, moving it to the other side of the desk. “But we haven’t really talked about how you ended up there in the first place,” she rushes to add.

Waverly reaches out a hand and lets her fingers graze along Nicole’s nameplate and the picture she keeps on her desk of her and Nathan and the small business card holder she has. Nicole follows her hand and blushes when she realizes Waverly is staring at her now. 

“Wynonna isn’t really well-liked in this town,” she says slowly.

Nicole snorts and thinks about a few nights ago when she was on her way out of the station and two guys from the night shift were talking about the crime rate spiking since Wynonna Earp moved back to town. She wasn’t here much earlier before Wynonna came back but even she can see there’s been a small bump in activity. She’s not sure it’s directly related to Wynonna Earp, but even Nicole can’t dispute cold, hard facts. 

“And some people think that they can get to her through me,” Waverly continues.

Nicole straightens up. “Stuff like that has happened before?” She reaches for the pen and small pad on her desk. “Who? When?”

Waverly puts a hand over Nicole’s with a soft chuckle. “Down, Officer Haught.”

“Nicole,” Nicole corrects.

“Nicole,” Waverly repeats softly. “I’m sure you’ve heard all about the Earps?” She spares a glance over her shoulder at Linda, who isn’t even bothering to pretend she’s not paying attention anymore. 

Nicole shakes her head in Linda’s direction. “We don’t have to talk here,” she offers to Waverly. “Or, at all, I guess. I mean, I want to know, if you want to tell me. I want to know everything,” she breathes out, flushing as soon as she says the words. “But if you don’t want to talk here, I can wait.”

Waverly squeezes the hand still holding Nicole’s hand. “I have to go. Wynonna and Deputy Marshalls Dolls need my help on some local history.” She pushes off the desk, landing on both feet. “And then I have a shift at Shorty’s. But,” she drawls. “Text me and we’ll find time to talk. Really talk.”

Nicole stands up from her chair and rests her hands on her belt. “Promise?”

Waverly gives her a wide smile. “I promise.”

Nicole follows Waverly for a few steps as she makes her way towards the Black Badge office. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Waverly stops before she rounds the corner and winks. “You better.”

Nicole stands there for a few minutes staring into the space where Waverly disappeared. When she turns around, Linda is sitting at the desk staring at her, her glasses down on her nose, and her arms crossed over her chest. Nicole flushes.

“What?” she asks defensively.

Linda continues to stare at her. “You want to know everything, huh?”

Nicole groans. “How much of that did you hear?”

Linda’s mouth twitches. “Enough to know that you’re ass over heels for that girl.”

Nicole rubs at the back of her neck, studying the pattern of the floor underneath her feet. 

“You know she’s going with Champ Hardy,” Linda says.

Nicole sighs and leans against the counter. “Yeah.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Nicole sees Linda shrug. “That boy can barely string a sentence together. How she ended up settling with him is more than I can guess.”

“He’s good looking, I guess,” Nicole admits. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

Linda fixes her with a glare that makes Nicole straighten up and tuck her hands into her pockets. “Waverly Earp is much more interested with what’s in someone’s head than she is with what’s on it.”

Nicole glances over to the Black Badge office again and sighs heavily. “Think I have a chance?”

Linda barks out a laugh and picks her book back up, thumbing through it until she finds the page she left off on. “I think you could beat out Champ Hardy any day of the week with your hands tied behind your back.”

Nicole frowns. “Yeah, but I don’t want to win her over just by kicking Champ’s ass. Which I could absolutely do,” she adds. “She’s… She’s worth more than that.”

Linda looks at her over the rim of her glasses and gives her a soft smile. “Well then you might just stand a chance after all.”

 

-

When she’s seventeen, Nicole drives her car into a tree.

She’s on her way home from a basketball game and she had sweet-talked her momma into letting her drive Nathan, a freshman now, home. She crossed her heart and hoped to die and solemnly swore she would go the speed limit the whole way. 

Nathan is fooling around with the stereo, changing the song before Nicole even has a chance to listen to the first note. She slaps his hand away and puts on a track she wants and she turns to give him a victory smile at the same moment he unbuckles to readjust his seatbelt.

And then there was a tree in front of her.

Nathan goes through the windshield and across a sidewalk and Nicole is stuck behind the wheel, the dashboard caved in and her seatbelt locked. 

She screams his name until the ambulance shows up, spilling red and white lights against someone’s front lawn.

“I didn’t see it,” she tells the paramedic who flips open a utility knife and slices her seatbelt into threes. “I didn’t see it.”

“Just stay with me, kid,” the paramedic says. He skims his hands along her neck and nods to himself.

“Nathan,” she croaks.

The paramedic looks over the crumpled hood of the car. “My partner is working on him. You focus on you.”

“I didn’t see it,” she repeats to him.

She tells the ER nurse and the doctor. She tells the PCA who comes in and takes her bloodied clothes. She tells the insurance lady who tells her she’ll come back when a guardian is present. 

When they roll Nathan into the empty bed next to her, she whispers it to him, to the long angry scar across his upper body, until she can’t say anything at all, her voice hoarse. 

Her momma comes flying into the room and Nicole finds the strength to say it one more time.

“Oh, baby,” her momma breathes out, dissolving into tears. 

“I didn’t  _ see _ it,” she whispers hoarsely.

Her momma shakes her head and puts a chair in between Nicole and Nathan, reaching for both of them. She squeezes Nicole’s hand until she can feel her momma’s nails cutting through her skin. “You’re not going to see everything,” she says after a minute. “You’re not always going to know what’s going to happen.”

Nicole looks across her momma at Nathan, so quiet and so small. He looks like he’s five again, instead of fifteen, his arm wrapped up in bright blue plaster. Lines run across his body and his cheek is scraped, raw and clean after they washed it. There’s an angry red slash across his chest and around his neck. She looks at the small specks where they pulled windshield out of his skin. 

And she gets angry.

“Then what’s the  _ goddamn point _ ?” she spits.

Her momma doesn’t react. She strokes Nathan’s arm with her other hand.

Nicole wrestles herself into a sitting position, ignoring the pull of the IV line in her arm. “Why can I have this ability but not  _ do _ anything with it?  _ Why _ ?”

Her momma runs her fingers across Nathan’s arm one last time and turns to Nicole. “Honey, we don’t know.”

“It’s not good enough,” Nicole growls.

“It’s just the way it is,” her momma continues calmly.

Nicole slams a fist into the mattress. “It’s  _ not _ good enough.”

Her momma uncurls Nicole’s fist slowly. “You can’t change what the world has decided has to happen,” her momma says.

Nicole shakes her head and looks at Nathan. “It’s not good enough.”

 

-

Nicole picks up a bag of regular potato chips and the BBQ flavor. She holds both of them in front of her and eventually just shrugs and puts the two bags on the counter.

“Anything else, Officer?” Jimmy Levin asks.

Nicole smiles down at the teenager and shakes her head. “No, I’m…” She pauses. “One second.” She jogs back to the cooler and grabs a soda. She drops it on the counter next to the chips. “Okay, good. And hey, throw in a candy bar for yourself.”

Jimmy gives her a hesitant smile. “You don’t have to do that, ma’am,” he says kindly.

Nicole waves him off. “Seriously, Jimmy. Your mom was telling me yesterday that you got an A on that paper, the one they’re sending into the competition?”

Jimmy straightens up a little. “Well, if you’re-”

“I’m sure,” Nicole insists. “And stop calling me ma’am, got it?”

“Yes ma-” Jimmy grins. “I mean, yes.”

“And I need $30 on the pump.”

Jimmy rings her up and Nicole hands him the cash. She dumps her change in the tip jar on the counter, ‘Jimmy’s College Fund’ scribbled across it in permanent marker. She tucks her chips and soda under her arm and then tosses them in the front seat of her cruiser. She rounds the back and end and untwists the gas cap.

She starts pumping gas when something catches her eye inside the station. Jimmy is behind the counter, his back to Nicole through the window. His shoulders are pulled up tight, his posture defensive. Nicole leans over to see past him and swears a little under her breath when she recognizes Kyle York standing on the other side of the counter, eating a candy bar slowly. 

Nicole finishes pumping her gas and hooks the line back to the pump. She walks slowly across the station lot and pushes the door to the store open, letting the bells on the frame announce.

Pete York is tolerable. He’s a bit of mess when he drinks and he’s lazy when it comes to paying parking tickets, but he’s on the harmless end of the scale of Purgatory troublemakers. Kyle York is a little more malicious. He’s just a handful of years out of high school, a year younger than Nicole, but there’s a darkness behind his eyes that cuts her to the bone.

Nicole leans against the counter, using her body to force Kyle to take a step back. “Hey, Kyle.”

Kyle barely looks at her, his eyes locked on Jimmy. “Ms.”

“Officer,” Nicole corrects, an edge to her voice.

Kyle takes another bite from the candy bar and looks at her slowly and then looks away. “Officer.”

Nicole looks at Jimmy. “You boys okay here?”

The bell above the door jingles again and footsteps head back towards the coolers

Jimmy nods wordlessly.

Nicole looks back to Kyle. “Kyle?”

Kyle looks at her again, still chewing. “Sure are,” he says. He finishes the candy bar and drops the crumpled wrapper on the counter.

Nicole picks it up quickly and hands it back to Kyle. “Fine for littering can be as much as $500,” she says casually. “There’s a trashcan on your way back to your car.”

Kyle’s mask of indifference cracks slightly as he flashes her an annoyed scowl, but then he picks up the wrapper off the counter. He turns on his heel, his eyes narrowing at Jimmy, before he heads out to his car, pointedly dropping the wrapper in the trashcan by the pump. 

Nicole huffs and leans her elbows on the counter, watching him drive away. It’s not until he’s gone that she looks at Jimmy. “You okay?”

Jimmy sighs and drops his head into his hands. He lets out a long breath and looks back up. “I didn’t need help.” 

Nicole reaches down to the front of the counter, below the lip. “I wasn’t kidding about the fine.” She pulls up another candy bar and drops it on the counter. She fishes a loose dollar out of her wallet and drops it on the counter next to the candy. She tips her hat at Jimmy and steps away from the counter as someone puts their things down.

“Officer,” the person says.

Nicole looks at the man and frowns for a minute before it registers in her mind. It’s the same guy from the bar, the one that had interrupted her conversation with Waverly by asking for a beer. She nods at him slowly.

“Juan Carlos,” he says, holding out his hand. 

Nicole takes his hand slowly. “Officer Haught.” 

Every red flag in her mind is at attention as she takes Juan Carlos in. Everything about him is nondescript; from his beige hat, a moon across the front, to the tan work jacket, to his dark plaid shirt, to his dirty jeans and his dirty boots. He looks like he could be dropped into the steel mill or the Grand farm or even the hardware store and no one would remember him coming or going. 

So, Nicole makes a concentrated effort to memorize every single detail about him that she can. She commits his five o’clock shadow and his moustache to the back part of her brain. She takes in his eyes and his thin lips and his hair, just below his ears. She memorizes his build and his height, subtracting an inch for the heel of his boot. She figures he’s a size 10, at least. His shoes are steel-tipped and he favors his left leg, shifting his weight to one side.

“Officer Haught,” Juan Carlos repeats. “Nice to formally meet you. The other day,” he prompts when she stays quiet.

“I remember,” she says coolly. 

Juan Carlos turns his attention to Jimmy and reads the total off the cash register. He peels a couple of bills out of his wallet and hands them to Jimmy. “And a $1 ticket. You choose.”

Jimmy nods and rips a scratch ticket off of a roll and hands it to Juan Carlos while he bags the rest of his things. Juan Carlos pulls a penny out of the ‘take a penny, leave a penny’ jar on the counter and pauses with it resting on the scratch ticket. He looks at Nicole thoughtfully. She memorizes the hunch of his shoulders as he leans over the counter.

“What do you think about these?” he asks. “They say the odds are crap. But I’m feeling lucky today.”

“I think you make your own luck,” Nicole says. She studies the way he favors his left hand. 

Juan Carlos gives her a crooked smile. “Do you now?” He lays the penny down. 

Nicole gives a short nod. “Sure.”

“You don’t believe in predetermination of facts?”

Nicole bristles a little. “Excuse me?”

“Predeterminism,” Juan Carlos says. “Everything - past, present, and future - has already been determined.” He picks up his scratch ticket. “If this is a winner, then it was determined, long before I bought it.”

“That you were the winner or that the ticket was?” Nicole can’t stop herself from asking.

Juan Carlos grins widely. “Now that’s a question, isn’t it?” He offers her the ticket. She catalogs the slight bend of his index finger. “Feel like trying your luck?”

“I’m in uniform,” she declines. 

Juan Carlos shrugs and pockets the ticket, putting the penny back in the container. “Might be for the best. You know, you can’t change what the world has decided must happen. And I think this ticket belongs to me.” He takes his bag off the counter and tips his head towards Jimmy, then Nicole. “Until we meet again.”

Nicole watches him leave, her mouth hanging open. His words run through her mind on high speed.

She curses under her breath and turns to Jimmy. “Who the hell  _ is _ that guy?”

Jimmy shrugs. “I’ve never seen him before.”

Nicole curses again.

 

-

**Waverly** _[20:17:43] Hey we’re slowing down and bingo is tonight so we probably won’t get too much more business_

**Waverly** _ [20:18:09]: Wanna come have that talk? _

**Waverly** _[20:30:32]: Sorry, I can’t remember if you said you were working tonight or not_

**Waverly** _ [20:43:21]: Sorry one more message. If you changed your mind about talking, that’s totally fine. You could always just come in and have a drink and we could talk about anything else _

**Waverly** _ [20:56:43]: I lied, one more. Have I told you we serve really great onion rings? Can’t get better than freezer to fryer. _

**Waverly** _ [21:05:12]: I made Champ promise not to start any fights this time _

**Waverly** _ [21:05:55]: Sorry that was a bad joke _

**Waverly** _ [21:31:13]: okay just text me whenever. _

Nicole stretches on her couch and sits up, closing her eyes again to ward off the dizziness that overtakes her as she rights herself. She opens her eyes and startles a little as Banjo comes into focus, so close to her. She scratches her cat behind the ears and twists, sighing in relief as her back muscles pop and stretch. She grabs for her phone and unlocks the screen, huffing when she realizes she’s missed all eight of Waverly’s texts.

**Nicole** _ [22:09:14] Sorry it’s so late! I fell asleep after my shift. I must have turned my alarm off. I swear I set one _

She puts her phone down and stands up only to have it  _ ding _ quickly.

**Waverly** _[22:09:32]: And here I thought you were ignoring me_

**Nicole** _[22:10:05]: I don’t think you’re capable of being ignored_

Nicole blames her sleep-adled brain for making her feel like she’s braver than she is and pours herself a glass of water. She drops a few ice cubes in Banjo’s water dish and opens a can of food, scooping it into her food bowl. She rifles through the fridge for something to eat and ends up pulling out a carton of boneless spare ribs, popping the top off and eating with her fingers. She wipes them on her pants when her phones goes off.

**Waverly** _[22:12:46]: You think you’re smooth at that, huh?_

**Nicole** _ [22:13:14]: Smooth at what? _

**Waverly** _ [22:14:03]: Telling people things you think they haven’t heard before _

Nicole smirks down at her phone and pops another sparerib in her mouth before typing out her answer.

**Nicole** _ [22:14:53]: Are you telling me there’s a horde of people out there using my techniques? _

Nicole opens the fridge back up and finds a soda rolling around behind the milk. She snaps the top and takes a long sip, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

**Waverly** _[22:16:09]: I work in a bar. I’ve heard it all_

**Nicole** _ [22:16:43]: Challenge accepted _

She decides to change into her pajamas and she leaves her phone and food in the kitchen, moving through her apartment and pulling her clothes off as she goes. She strips down to the tank top under her uniform shirt and her underwear, tossing her uniform into her laundry basket. She hears her phone go off from the kitchen and pulls on a pair of fuzzy socks before she moves back through the living room and into the kitchen. She scoops up her soda and her phone and the spareribs, trying to remember what’s on TV tonight.

When she puts down her phone to pick up the remote her world flickers and her apartment disappears in a swirl around her. She feels the soda slip through her hand and fall slowly through the air, splashing against her feet right as her world changes. She’s standing in the trailer park at the edge of town - she’s been here before once or twice, following up on noise complaints from neighboring houses. Sticks slice into the bottom of her socks and the breeze bites at her bare arms. She rubs her hands up and down them, trying to stay warm. She scans the park, frowning at the dilapidated trailers and the shiny motorcycles. On her second scan across the scenery, she spots someone familiar. She squints and takes a few steps forward.

Waverly peeks out behind the end of a trailer, her phone in her hand with the camera app open. She stretches her arm out and takes a few pictures in quick succession.

Nicole ignores the pointed sticks and rocks cutting into her feet and drifts forward. She comes up behind Waverly, close enough to reach out and touch her if she wanted to. When Waverly leans around the end of the trailer again, Nicole mimics the motion, trying to see what she sees. 

“ _ You son of a bitch _ ,” Henry is saying. “ _ I do not work for you _ .”

Waverly puts her camera out again, this time set to video. “ _ Someone’s a son of a bitch, alright _ ,” she grumbles. “ _ Just wait until Wynonna finds out this _ .” She starts tapping on her phone.

Nicole looks back and Bobo is snarling at Henry. “ _ You get the Heir… To trust you _ ,” he says.

Henry’s face twists into anger.

“ _ Have her think that, uh, you’re on her side, _ ” Bobo continues. He lifts his face upward and sniffs once, then twice. 

Waverly shudders next to where Nicole is standing. “ _ Gross _ ,” she murmurs. 

“ _ Hell, once you get close to Wynonna, you’ll be getting plenty on the side _ .” Bobo sniffs the air again.

Waverly’s head snaps up. “ _ Is he effing kid _ -”

Bobo’s head turns and his eyes narrow in anger as they land on Waverly.

“ _ God, not now _ ,” Waverly groans, nearly dropping her phone and flattening herself against the side of the trailer she’s hiding behind. 

Nicole watches Waverly type into her phone with one hand, muttering to herself.

“ _ Deal with that _ ,” Bobo hisses to Henry.

Nicole watches Henry’s face, shifting from anger to defeat and back to annoyance as he unholsters the gun at his hip and aims towards the trailer. “ _ You stupid girl _ ,” she hears him mutter. Nicole watches his gun shift as he presses his finger down against the trigger.

A bullet explodes out of his gun at the same time as Waverly shifts onto the balls of her feet and pushes out from behind the trailer, camera ready in her hand. Nicole watches the fear rise in Doc’s eyes and the realization dawn on Waverly’s face, a half a second before it’s replaced with terror.

Nicole has no time to scream. 

Neither does Waverly. 

There’s a loud  _ pop _ as the bullet hits the corner of the poorly-made trailer, puckering the metal as it slices through it. Waverly is so close to the trailer that Nicole doesn’t see the bullet strike her in the neck. But she does see the shock in Waverly’s eyes; she sees Waverly’s knees buckle; she sees Waverly’s arm spasm and then loosen, her phone hitting the ground.

She sees Waverly flutter to the ground right after it, her eyes already lifeless.

There’s a scream in her body that doesn’t come out until she blinks and she’s back in her living room with a puddle of soda under her feet and spareribs scattered across the couch. Nicole drops the remote and scrambles for her phone, trying to unlock it. She enters the wrong passcode twice and makes herself slow down so she doesn’t disable it for a minute. She opens the calendar app by mistake before she gets to the phone keypad, typing Waverly’s name into the contact search bar.

It rings three times before someone picks up, uttering a soft, confused, “ _ hello? _ ” into the phone.

Nicole lets out a heavy sigh and falls back onto her couch, her hand against her chest. “Hi,” she pants.

Waverly is quiet for a moment. Nicole can hear the noises of the bar through the phone and she takes a second to use them to ground herself. She can hear the jukebox playing and the soft thud of pool balls in the pockets. She hears glasses being moved around and people laughing loudly before they fade back into their conversations. 

“Nicole?”

Nicole smiles. “Yeah, it’s me. Hi."

“Hey,” Waverly says, quicker this time. “What’s up?”

Nicole reaches for Banjo and taps her on the nose. “I just… Are you okay?” she asks. She can’t help herself.

“I’m fine?”

“Yeah?”

There’s another pause on the other end of the line. “Are you drunk?” Waverly finally asks. 

Nicole laughs. “No. No, I promise. I just…” She scratches at the back of her neck with her free hand. “I just needed to hear you voice. To know you’re okay,” she rushes to add. She winces. “I’m eating,” she continues on trying to fill the empty space on the line. “Talking on the phone is easier because I don’t need to keep wiping my hands off this way.”

“Okay,” Waverly drags out. 

“Hey, listen. What do you really know about that Henry guy?” she asks before she can stop herself.

“What do you mean?” Waverly asks.

Nicole can hear her moving around behind the bar. She can recognize the noise one of the glass bottles makes as it comes out of the well, the sloshing sound of a drink being poured, and then the metallic clang of the bottle being put back. “I mean, what do you know about him?”

“Are you calling on official police business?” Waverly asks.

Nicole chuckles. “No. I’m just asking.”

“He’s right here,” Waverly says casually. “Anything you want me to ask him?”

Nicole grips the couch cushion she’s sitting on. “Waverly,” she says, her voice low and tight. “You need to be careful around him. He’s… He seems dangerous."

Waverly laughs in her ear. “Don’t be silly, Nicole.”

“I’m not being anything but serious,” she tells Waverly. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

Waverly sighs into the phone, loud and heavy in Nicole’s ear. “Fine,” she whines. Her voice gets farther away; Nicole can picture her cupping a hand around the phone and yelling at someone. “Sorry,” she says back into the phone. “Champ is showing off and he’s about one bad judo move away from breaking my favorite pool cue.”

“Oh, Champ,” Nicole says flatly. “Well I better let you go, then.”

There’s another pause on the line. “Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Nicole nods before she realizes Waverly can’t see her. “Yeah,” she breathes out. “Just be careful until I see you again.”

“Sure thing,” Waverly chirps into the phone.

The call disconnects and Nicole sits and stares at the blank TV screen until she stops seeing Waverly’s eyes reflecting back at her.

 

-

“Haught, let’s go,” Nedley says with a grimace. He doesn’t wait for her to catch up.

Nicole jogs through the bullpen, dodging Pine’s feet as he sticks them in her way. She rolls her eyes at Linda and hustles out the door behind Nedley, coming to a stop in front of her cruiser.

“We got a few reports of a 10-32, civilians on site,” Nedley huffs, his face red. He pulls open the door on his SUV.

Nicole’s stomach plummets. She pulls at her collar.

She pictures Waverly, eyes wide with fear; Waverly, her head falling to one side; Waverly hitting the ground; Waverly’s neck stained red.

“Where?” she manages to ask, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible.

“Surplus store,” Nedley barks.

The weight in Nicole’s chest eases and she lets out a sigh of relief that has Nedley turning sharply, his eyes narrowed. “I mean,” she tries. “What’s the situation?”

Nedley growls. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Dispatch put the call right through to Deputy Marshall Dolls without even telling me.”

Nicole slides into her cruiser. She doesn’t bother with a seatbelt or the radio. She throws the cruiser into reverse and nearly strips a gear putting it back into drive before the tires stop squealing against the dirt lot. She pulls up behind a makeshift barricade of cars on the street, stopping right behind Nedley. Deputy Marshall Dolls and Wynonna are standing in front of a big, black SUV, arms crossed over their chests and twin glares on their faces. Nicole follows Nedley, coming up behind Dolls and Wynonna just in time to hear Dolls murmur “ _ Oh, the calvary. Just in time _ .”

“Ah, great,” Wynonna sighs.

Nicole ignores them both, giving her attention to Nedley as he straightens his belt. “Got a report of shots fired, hostage situation. I’ll call the Tac team?”

Dolls shrugs. “It’ll take them an hour to get here from the city.” He turns to Nedley. “You’ll take your cues from me.”

Nedley huffs. “So we just stand here with our thumbs up our asses?”

Dolls gives Nedley an unamused smile. “If that’s how you’ve been trained, feel free.” He turns his back to Nedley as Wynonna swoops in and steals Dolls’ attention. 

“What’re we gonna do, boss?” Nicole asks Nedley in a low voice.

Nedley sighs and glares at the back of Dolls’s head. He nods in the direction of the crowd starting to gather behind the car barricade. “Take care of that. Ease their fears, ask them to step back. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

Nicole straightens up and looks Nedley in the eye. “Yes, sir.”

There’s a look on Dolls’s face as she moves to go past him that makes her stop. She looks back over her shoulder and watches Wynonna walk, head held high, right through the doors of the surplus store. Dolls meets her eye.

“What’s the plan, Deputy Marshall?” she asks. She knows she’s supposed to be following Nedley’s orders, pushing the crowd back. But Dolls is looking at her and not threatening treason and that’s progress. 

“We surround the store,” he instructs. “You get a clear shot, you let me know.”

“Okay,” she agrees, nodding.

“We hear shots, we go in.”

“Okay,” she repeats.

“Call Waverly. Tell her that her sister’s in a situation.”

Nicole’s chest tightens. “Okay,” she manages. She looks past Dolls at the cars in the parking lot and frowns. “Isn’t that Champ’s truck.”

“Waverly’s boyfriend,” Dolls says unnecessarily.

“Unfortunately,” Nicole murmurs. Dolls hands her his phone. It takes her a minute to find Waverly’s name - she’s under Earp 2 - but she taps on the number and holds it to her ear.

It rings four times and goes to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me. Nicole,” she adds. She huffs into the speaker. “So listen. Your sister is in the middle of a situation and Deputy Marshall Dolls asked me to call you and… Wynonna is going to be fine,” Nicole breathes out. “She’s people-smart and she can hold her own. Call me back, okay?”

She picks a spot on the perimeter, her gun in one hand. She pockets Dolls’s phone and pulls out her own. After another five minutes, she checks her phone again, sparing a glance at Nedley before she does. No call back, no messages. Nicole ducks behind a car and pulls up her recent calls list again. She stabs at Waverly’s name.

It rings four times and goes to voicemail again.

“Hey, me again,” she says. “Nicole,” she adds. “Listen, if you’re at Shorty’s, just stay there? I promise you I’ll figure out what’s going on with Wynonna. You just stay safe. Okay. Bye.”

Another ten minutes and she’s still waiting outside of the surplus store. Her neck is starting to stiffen from all the hunching over she’s doing, and she pops it one way and then the other. A stick breaks under the weight of her right foot and Nicole feels the world spin. But she blinks rapidly and she’s right where she had been standing, not somewhere else. 

She can see Waverly in her head, leaning against the trailer back with her camera out. She can see her reach her arm out around the edge and snap picture after picture.

She dials Waverly again; four rings and then to voicemail. 

“Hey, it’s me again. I’m assuming you’re not at Shorty’s because if you were, you’d already be here.” Nicole scratches the back of her neck lightly. “So if you’re at the station, just stay put. Wynonna will be back to bothering Linda in no time.” She hangs up and puts the phone in her front shirt pocket. 

Another five minutes go by and she’s pulling her phone out again. 

Four rings and right to voicemail.

“Call me when you get this,” she says first thing. “If you’re with Gus, just stay put. And please, please call me.”

Her phone stays quiet. 

Another ten minutes and she’s back listening to Waverly’s voicemail greeting.

“Just let me know you’re okay, Waverly,” she pleads.

Four rings and right to voicemail.

Nicole growls into the phone. “Dammit, Waverly. Pick up.” She hangs up.

Four rings and right to voicemail.

“Call me. Now.”

Four rings and right to voicemail.

“I need to know you’re okay,” Nicole breathes into the speaker. “Please.”

Four rings and right to voicemail.


	4. iv.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone get Smurf a beer for wading through this mess.

There’s some activity in the surplus store. 

Officers start to straighten up and turn their focus to the storefront. Nicole pockets her phone and steadies her gun, aiming it at the door.

It swings open and Wynonna steps out, her movements jerky. One of the suspects is crouched behind her, using her as a shield. 

“Do you have a shot?” she hears Dolls ask Nedley.

Nedley’s rifle is steady in the air. “Jesus, Dolls. They have a human shield.”

Dolls doesn’t lower his gun. “Okay, I can offer safe passage in return for the hostages!” he shouts.

“This is our ‘safe passage’. Anyone with a badge follows us and they die,” the suspect shouts back. He’s got a gun to Wynonna’s neck. 

“Deputy, did they find what they were looking for?” Dolls asks.

“Yeah,” Wynonna says. “A loveless heart. But don’t sweat it, I’m gonna kill these sonsabitches with my bare hands,” she promises.

Nicole watches Wynonna, Champ, and Shorty get into a van.

“Can I at least shoot out the goddamn tires?” Nedley asks, his gun dipping low. 

“Yeah, if you want them to die now, go ahead,” Dolls offers.

Nicole jogs up behind Nedley. “What? We’re just letting them go?”

“No,” Dolls says shortly. 

Nicole keeps her gun aimed on the van as it drives past them and through the barricade. Dolls stares blankly at the van before he looks back at them. “You two clear the scene,” he instructs.

Nicole shakes her head but when Nedley nods at her, she follows the directive. She pauses a few feet away and pulls her phone back out, redialing Waverly.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

“God, not  _ now _ !” she hears through the speaker.

Nicole barely gets a chance to think “ _ Waverly! _ ” before she hears a gunshot echo across the line. She hears Waverly gasp and Nicole feels her heart bottom into her stomach. There’s a heavy thudding through the speaker and Nicole stops halfway to her car, one hand pressed to her chest and the other pressing the phone to her ear.

The thuds stop and the phone is quiet.

“Waverly,” she croaks after a minute.

“ _ Jesus _ , Nicole,” Waverly says. “You called me, like, fifteen times. What the hell?”

Nicole exhales heavily and her knees feel like they’re going to give out and she wants to ask, “ _ Did it miss? Did Henry shoot you? _ ” Her throat closes around the words and she has to make an effort to slow herself down enough to speak without choking.

“Did you,” she starts. She clears her throat. “Did you get my message about Wynonna?”

There’s a long pause on the line and then Waverly is back, her voice eerily calm. “Which message was that? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, or 6?”

Nicole trips over her words. “Uh, the first one.”

“I didn’t listen to it yet,” Waverly continues. Her voice is still light and even. “What happened?”

“There was a hostage situation at the surplus store,” Nicole says, trying to remember exactly what she said on her message. “Wynonna and Champ and Shorty, they’re kind of stuck in the middle of it.”

“I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?”

“Champ will be fine,” Nicole says, trying to sound hopeful.

“I don’t-” Waverly huffs loudly in her ear. “What do you  _ mean _ Wynonna is in a hostage situation. I just saw her, like, an hour ago!”

Nicole snorts softly. “And you think she can’t get herself into trouble in an hour?”

There’s a pause and then Waverly sighs. “No, you’re right.”

“Usually am,” Nicole brags. Her heart rate is settling down to a steady rhythm.

Nicole sees Nedley scan the lot for her and when she meets his eyes, she mouths ‘ _ Waverly _ ’ at him. He nods once and goes back to answering questions locals are throwing at him. 

When Waverly speaks again, her voice is small and searching. “She’s going to be okay?”

“She’s going to be fine,” Nicole says quietly. “She’ll stop whatever those idiots are planning and get Champ and Shorty back in one piece.”

“Promise?”

She has no business promising Waverly Earp  _ anything _ . 

But it doesn’t stop her from swallowing heavily and whispering, ‘ _ I promise _ ’ back into the phone anyway.

 

-

Nedley stops by her desk later that day, his eyes dark and clouded and the lines on his face a little deeper.

“Earp is back,” he says in a low voice. “Suspects are confirmed dead out by the town line.”

Nicole starts to smile a little.

“And, uh,” Nedley continues. “Shorty. He didn’t make it.” Nedley sighs heavily. “ _ Goddamnit _ . There’s gonna be a small memorial thing at Shor- The bar, later this week.” He starts walking back to his office but pauses in the doorway and turns back to face her. “Might want to go give Waverly Earp your condolences. On behalf of the department, I mean.”

Nicole nods slowly and reaches for her phone. She opens her messages and starts to tap something out but nothing sounds good or right. She puts her phone down again just as the door bangs open.

Wynonna slides along the counter, leaning heavily against it. Her elbow knocks a stack of pamphlets off the counter and Nicole looks up just as Linda starts to get up from her seat and reprimand Wynonna. Nicole jumps up and intercepts Linda.

“I got this,” she murmurs. She grabs Wynonna by the elbow and winces a little at the smell of whisky coming off her. She steers her around in a circle and back out the door onto the sidewalk. “Wynonna,” she starts.

Wynonna pulls her arm away and holds it tightly against her own body. “Don’t you start with me. You don’t know  _ crap _ .”

Nicole holds up her hands in surrender. “No, I don’t. I just think you need to be somewhere you can grieve and not have the whole world watching.”

The fight drains from Wynonna’s face and she blows a stream of air upward. “ _ Shit _ ,” she murmurs. She meets Nicole’s eyes and looks away quickly. “Yeah. Thanks,” she adds.

Nicole glances down the road at the coffee shop and pats her pockets for her wallet. “Let me buy you a coffee, okay?”

Wynonna doesn’t say no, so Nicole just starts walking towards the coffee shop, keeping her steps slow and measured. Wynonna falls into step beside her, hands shoved in her pockets and her eyes narrowed just a little as she tries to stay balanced. It’s a short walk, a half a block or so, but it takes them just under 5 minutes to get inside the nearly-empty shop. Wynonna picks the farthest table from the counter, the one in the corner of the storefront window. Nicole orders two black coffees and waits the minute it takes for the guy behind the counter to pour them before she carries them to the table.

“Shorty is one of the only people in this town who never treated me like I was dirt on the bottom of their boots,” Wynonna says after a few minutes. “ _ Was _ , I mean. He was.” She fishes into her jacket pocket and pulls out a small nip of whisky. She glances up as she cracks the seal and meets Nicole’s eye.

Nicole tips her head to one side and sips her coffee pointedly.

Wynonna sighs and puts it back in her pocket.

They drink their coffee quietly, each of them staring out the window. It’s another few minutes before Wynonna breaks the silence again.

“Dolls told me you called Waverly for me.”

Nicole shrugs. “If it was my brother, I’d want to know.”

Wynonna gives her a tight-lipped smile. “A brother. My mama thought Waverly was going to be a boy.”

“Thank god she isn’t,” Nicole can’t stop herself from saying. 

Wynonna stares at her for a moment. “Sure. I mean, I don’t know what I’d do with a little brother.” She scoffs. “Not like I know what to do with a little sister, anyway. I’m pretty crappy at being an older sister.”

Nicole frowns and puts her coffee cup down. “Waverly loves you.”

“What?”

“I’m serious,” Nicole insists.

Wynonna looks away, shifting uncomfortably.

“She does. And whatever happened out there? She knows you did your best.” Nicole takes a long sip of her coffee. “We know you did your best.”

Wynonna leans forward in her chair and drains the rest of her coffee. “Okay. This was painful.” She stands up. “Thanks for the coffee.”

Nicole stands slowly. “Sure, Wynonna.”

Wynonna pauses at the table. “You’re not so bad. For a cop.”

“Neither are you,” Nicole says.

Wynonna makes a face and leaves the coffee shop, walking down the street away from the station, towards Shorty’s. Nicole finishes what’s left of her coffee and clears both cups from the table, nodding at the guy behind the counter before she leaves the shop and heads towards the station. 

She pauses at the corner and pulls out her phone. There’s no new messages but she pulls open her thread with Waverly, taking a deep breath before she taps out her message and hits send.

**Nicole** _[15:32:09]: If you need anything, just call._

 

-

“And then there I was, holding him as he died,” Champ boasts. 

Nicole pauses, trying to make sense of what she’s hearing and hoping she’s wrong. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since Shorty’s death and Nicole is buried in paperwork the feds are requesting get done. The bullpen is strangely full, a horde of guys Nicole vaguely knows hanging around Pine’s desk. Champ is perched on the edge of it, supposedly playing hero.

“Bullshit,” Pete York says.

Champ shakes his head. “No. I’m serious. The big guy is, like, keeling over and he’s asking for me.”

Nicole grips her pencil a little tighter.

Kyle York sits in the seat next to Pine’s desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes on Nicole. She looks up and stares back at him, holding the eye contact until he looks away. She tallies the small victory in her mind. Her phone goes off on her desk. She read’s Waverly’s name across the screen and hastily puts in her passcode.

**Waverly** _[11:14:43]: We’re doing a small memorial at Shorty’s tonight. Will you come?_

Nicole feels herself smile a little. 

**Nicole** _[11:15:22]: If you want me there I will be_

**Waverly** _ [11:15:56]: Please _

She’s about to send a message back when Champ opens his mouth again. 

“You know, if the crazy Earp hadn't been there, maybe Shorty would have lived,” he theorizes. 

Nicole’s phone hits the top of her desk with a bang. Champ jumps a little, sliding off the desk and landing on two feet. 

“Are you kidding me?” she asks him. 

Champ blinks at her. “What?”

“You think  _ you _ would have stopped two guys with a gun any better than Wynonna?”

Champ looks back at Pine, the York brothers, and two other guys Nicole doesn't know. Nicole stands up from her seat.

“You think  _ you _ could have done a better job?” she challenges him again.

Champ opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly. He looks back at his friends again and then turns back to her, more resolve in his eyes. “Yeah, I do,” he says. “ _ Wynonna _ nearly got us killed.”

“Wynonna saved your life,” she fires back.

Kyle York snorts from his seat.

Nicole rounds on him. “You have something to add to this conversation?”

He shrugs. “Nawh.”

She clenches her hand into a fist, fuming a little. “Okay, you know what? You can-”

“Pine!” Nedley barks from his office door. “What is the fraternization rule?” He doesn’t wait for Pine to try and come up with an answer. “This isn’t Happy Hour at Shorty’s. Boys, get out of here.” 

No one moves.

“Now,” he says.

They all stand up, filing past Nicole one-by-one. Champ snarls at her as he brushes by her and Nicole glares after him. She’s staring so hard at the back of his head that she doesn’t notice when Kyle hip-checks her, immediately putting his hands up into the air.

“My bad,” he says. 

Nicole resists the urge to rub at the instantly-forming bruise and ignores him instead.

Pine glares at her. “Thanks for that.”

“Pine, go check gas gauges. On  _ all _ of the cars,” Nedley orders.

Pine continues to glare at her for another minute before sighing and picking up a notebook and pen and heading out to the parking lot. Nedley wanders further out of his office, leaning against Pine’s now-empty desk with his arms over his chest, staring at Nicole over the rim of his reading glasses. 

“What?” she snaps, adding “sir” softly.

“You don’t care much about making friends or enemies in this town,” he says. 

Nicole crosses her arms over her chest defensively. “Is that a question, or an observation, sir?”

Nedley shrugs. “Both.”

Nicole wonders about the picture they make right now: standing off in the middle of the bullpen, arms crossed tightly across their chests, staring each other down. “No, sir. I care about right and wrong.”

“And you think Wynonna Earp did the best she could,” Nedley says.

“I know she did,” Nicole says firmly. “And Champ Hardy couldn’t have even dreamed of doing anything close to that.”

“You don’t know Champ.”

Nicole snorts. “I know boy-men  _ like _ Champ. And they’re all the same. It’s all talk, talk, talk. But the women around them are doing all the work for none of the recognition.”

Nedley is quiet for a moment before he uncrosses his arms and takes on a softer posture. “He’s been with Waverly Earp for some time now.”

Nicole shrugs and pretends like she doesn’t care people keep reminding her of that. “And?”

Nedley’s mouth opens but his words never come. The light of her computer screen flickers and then Nicole feels her body moving through time and space. When her stomach settles, she’s outside and Pine is half in-half out of a car, checking it’s gas gauge as the engine idles.

“ _ Goddamn rookie.  _ She’s _ the goddamn rookie, _ ” he’s saying. He straightens back up and scribbles something down in his notebook. “ _ And I’m the one out here checking gas like it’s my first damn week. _ ” He shuts the car off and starts walking towards the next cruiser. He’s rounding the end of the cruiser when a truck spins around the corner and hits the dirt patch at the edge of the lot. The early morning rains had created a puddle and Nicole watches a bucket’s worth of mud spit out from under the tire and arc through the air, hitting Pine in the face with a squelch. He screams.

Nicole blinks and Nedley is in front of her, frowning at her. “Did you hear a word I said, Haught?”

Nicole shakes her head slowly. “I’m sorry, sir. I was-”

“I said,” Nedley speaks over her. “Waverly is a smart girl. Champ Hardy isn’t going to last in her world. But she deserves someone who takes herself seriously. Who respects what they do.”

Nicole opens her mouth, snaps it closed, then opens it slowly. “Sir, are you giving me the  _ talk _ ? About Waverly?”

Nedley huffs and throws his hands up into the air. “You’re a good cop, Nicole. You’ve got a future here. In Purgatory. Don’t get into a pissing match with Champ Hardy and risk that.”

Nicole tips her head to the side. “Wait. Are you giving me the talk about  _ me _ ?”

Nedley opens his mouth but someone screams outside and they both turn to the door just as it blows open. Pine is panting in the doorway, covered in mud from his chest to his knees. A glob falls of his shirt and lands on his shoe.

Nicole bites down on her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. 

“ _ Jesus _ , Pine. Get yourself together, would you?” Nedley sighs, turning back into his office. 

Pine marches past her.

When she’s sure the locker room door has closed, Nicole laughs until her eyes blur with tears.

 

-

The bar is full by the time she gets there, but not overwhelmingly so, like Nicole thought it would be. Conversations buzz but she can still hear the jukebox playing and the crack of pool balls. She spots Waverly behind the bar as soon as she walks in the door, but people keep cutting her off on her way and wanting to talk to her.

Nedley asks her who’s covering the desk.

Mrs. Rosen wants to talk to her about a neighborhood watch.

Steve Tomlin’s little girl wonders what it’s like to be a ‘lady policeman’.

By the time she gets away from the nine-year-old, Waverly is standing alone at the bar. Nicole brushes off Rosie from the hardware store and stops a few feet away from the bar. She touches the back of her braid to make sure everything is in place. She picks a piece of lint off her pants. She smoothes down the front of her uniform shirt. She takes a deep breath and rounds the bar.

“Waverly,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”

Waverly’s eyes are wet and rimmed with red and her voice is shaking when she says, “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Nicole feels a crack in her chest and she reaches without thinking, grabbing Waverly’s hands. She runs one of her hands up Waverly’s arm and down again. She wants to tell her she’s sorry, again. She wants to tell her that it was obvious Shorty loved her. She wants to tell Waverly that even though Shorty is gone, Nicole can only be thankful Waverly isn’t gone too.

Champ winds himself around Waverly just as Nicole opens her mouth. He coos at her and kisses her face. “It’s okay,” he tells her.

Nicole pulls her hands back. She curses at herself. This isn’t the place for her right now.

Except when she glances down quickly, Waverly’s hands are reaching out, her fingers twitching.

“Hey, um… I got that voicemail you mentioned.”

“Yeah,” Champ echoes.

“About Wynonna,” Waverly clarifies. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” Champ says.

Nicole is still staring at Waverly’s hands and her fingers, splayed out across the bartop.

“It was really sweet,” Waverly manages before a fresh wave of tears comes.

Nicole looks up and feels her heart hammering in her chest. “Yeah. Sure.” She meets Champ’s eyes and he’s smirking at her, his arms still wrapped around Waverly. “Of course,” she finishes. She looks around the bar blankly and spots Dolls near a high-top table, standing by himself. She sidles up to him and nods. “Hey, uh, any update on that time capsule murder?”

Dolls gives her a humorless smile. “Nedley knows I won’t tell him, huh? It’s unresolved. We’re handing the case back over to Metro.”

“Any connection to the kidnapping?”

“None,” Dolls says before Nicole can finish her sentence.

“Poor Shorty.”

“Yeah. We have his body and we’re doing a full autopsy, but our best guess is that the stress of the ordeal was too much for his heart condition.”

Nicole hears him but her attention is on Waverly. She’s moving through the bar towards Wynonna at the pool table with a bottle of whisky, her arms wrapped tight around her body. “She said she was glad I called,” she breathes out.

“I’ll bet,” Dolls says flatly.

Nicole looks at him and notices his odd stare and she remembers instantly who she’s talking to. She frowns and she looks away just to look back and then she decides she’d rather be standing anywhere else in the world right now than next to Agent Dolls, for fear of treason and life-ending embarrassment. Waverly and Wynonna are deep in conversation, the York boys and Champ are getting rowdy at one of the bar, Nedley and a bunch of other small-town government guys are at the other, and Nicole decides that maybe there’s some paperwork on her desk she forgot to do.

There isn’t, but she can come up with something.

She’s halfway to her cruiser when a hand lands on her shoulder, stopping her in place. Her free hand goes to her side, flipping open her holster.

“Officer,” Juan Carlos says. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Well next time wear a bell,” she murmurs. She straightens up. “What can I do for you?"

Juan Carlos drops his hand and pushes it into his pocket, staring past her up towards the mountains. “Sure is a shame about Shorty,” he says casually.

Nicole spares a glance back at the bar. She can just barely see through the window Pete York paid to replace. Waverly is back behind the bar and Champ is wrapped around her, his arm across the back of her shoulders. Waverly shrugs him off and Nicole feels her chest loosen.

“Sure is,” she echoes.

“He was a town staple,” Juan Carlos continues.

Nicole stares at him for a moment. “How long have you been in Purgatory?”

He shrugs. “A while. Give or take a few years. How about you, Officer?”

“About two months. Give or take a few weeks.”

Juan Carlos nods thoughtfully and turns his attention back to the mountains. Nicole rests her hands on her belt and stands there with him for a moment before she decides that she really, really can find something else to do away from everyone else.

She takes one step towards her cruiser when Juan Carlos turns back to face her. “Fate is a fickle thing,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

Juan Carlos nods. “Fate. It’s a tricky thing. You can never escape it.”

“Like these conversations,” she mutters.

“I’m sorry?”

Nicole shakes her head. “Never mind.”

Juan Carlos pauses for another second longer before he speaks again. “Do you believe we’re all fated to die in a specific way?”

Nicole frowns at him. “That’s pretty existential for a funeral."

“Isn’t that the best time to face our mortality, Officer?”

“I don’t know.” Nicole shrugs. “I mean, I guess? We’re all fated to die. But in a specific way? I don’t think so.”

Juan Carlos nods at her, as if he’s agreeing. “Let me rephrase the question, then. Do you think we’re born with a life plan and we stick to that life plan?”

Nicole thinks of the life she had before Purgatory. She was in the academy; she was slated for a one-way ticket back to the big city, to work in a police station with actual daily crimes, where she could go climb the ranks because she was good at her job and not because someone retired or died. She wasn’t seeing anyone yet but there were options; she had a few first dates and maybe one of them could have turned into a second date. She was going to move back in with her mom; save up some money and buy an apartment downtown that she couldn’t afford and would barely sleep in.

Here she is now, in a small town she had to Google search, falling down an impossibly long rabbit hole for a girl, living in an apartment she can afford with a cat she typically has time to pay attention to. 

She remembers  _ why  _ she ended up here and she looks at Juan Carlos through narrowed eyes, searching his face for something that might tell her why he would be talking to her about this. He looks back at her with a small smile that Nicole finds irritating for no explainable reason.

“I think life is like a road map. We have a few different ways to get where we’re going,” Nicole admits.

Juan Carlos’s smile grows. “So you were going to end up in Purgatory all along, then. And Shorty was always going to die at the hands of those men.”

Nicole frowns. “I guess,” she says slowly.

“Then you agree. We are born with a plan and we all follow that plan. Sometimes we just get detoured.”

“Sure,” Nicole drags out.

“So, hypothetically, if you were fated, or destined, or what have you, to meet a specific person in your life, you would meet them regardless of circumstances,” Juan Carlos continues.

Nicole tips her head to the side. “Yeah?”

“And that person has their future predetermined as well.”

“Uh huh.”

“So we can try and change how things happen. Or even when. But they’ll always happen,” Juan Carlos says. He looks back towards the mountains. “Do you agree with that?”

Nicole’s mind flashes back to Waverly and she frowns. She knows what her momma has always told her - you can’t change what the world has decided has to happen - but she also knows she saved Waverly,  _ twice _ . She changed what the world said was going to happen. And now Waverly smiles at her and laughs at her bad jokes and texts her back and drops coffees off at her desk, and now that it’s happening, Nicole can’t see how that can be something she doesn’t get to experience in life just because of  _ fate _ .

“I think you can change it,” she finds herself saying out loud.

Juan Carlos’s face falls a little. “Oh?”

Nicole straightens up. “Yeah. Things can change.”

“You can’t alter the ending, Officer Haught,” he argues. His voice is deeper, a little angry. 

Nicole takes an instinctive step back. “You clearly haven’t read a ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ book,” she mutters. She fishes her keys out of the pocket of her jacket and turns towards her cruiser. “Listen, I have things to do. I’m sure Shorty would really appreciate you comin’ out, though.” She nods a goodbye at him. 

“Just remember, Officer,” he shouts at her as she gets in her cruiser. “Some things you can never change.”

She slams her cruiser door shut.

 

-

Nicole stares at the list on the back of her bedroom door. It’s a large poster board with six boxes on it, each one with the name of a different opening she had applied for: a few stateside positions her mentor had pushed her to apply for, two local big city positions, and the job she  _ wanted _ in Calgary. She had callbacks and an online interview for one of the state jobs, both big cities, and Calgary. Calgary had promised to let her know by the end of the week.

It  _ should _ be an easy choice. 

She turns the business card in her hand over and traces her name embossed across the front under the Purgatory Sheriff Department header. 

A man named Randy Nedley had given it to her weeks ago, before she was even finished in the academy. He claimed to be visiting a buddy from his academy days and had watched her in training for a long time. She knows he had asked around about her and when he finally approached her, he had handed her a business card he had already made for her.

“Consider us. We’re a small town but we have our excitement,” he had said. He had stared at her for a long minute. Nicole had resisted the urge to squirm. “You’d be the right addition to the force. I promise it won’t be a move you regret.”

He had come back a few more times, each time asking her what she thought about Purgatory. She had done her research and he wasn’t lying; it was a small town. But it also had an interesting crime spike every now and then and that caught Nicole’s attention.

Calgary is everything she’s wanted in a police department and more. She knows a few people out there from college and she could start a life in that city. Purgatory didn’t come up the first time she searched online and the only thing she could find was a choppy town website advertising Purgatory has Wyatt Earp’s final resting place. 

But there had been a moment, in the academy, where she had been adding an extra set of weights into her day and the world had tilted and darkened at the edges. Then she was in the driveway of her momma’s house, closing the passenger side door. 

“ _ That it? _ ” her momma is asking her. 

Nicole nods. “ _ I got everything. _ ”

“ _ And you’re sure this is where you want to go _ ?” her momma asks.

“ _ I think it’s gonna be a good move. I know it’s kind of far away- _ ”

“ _ Baby, it’s  _ very _ far away,” _ her momma interrupts.

“ _ It’s gonna be a good move _ ,” Nicole repeats. “ _ The Sheriff has already talked to me about what there is for advancement and how he’s looking to shake up his ranks and how I can help _ .”

Her momma stares at her for a moment before she nods slowly. “ _ You’re a smart one, baby. If you say it’ll be good, that’s exactly what it’ll be. I’m just gonna be here at home, worrying about you _ .”

Nicole rolls her eyes and pulls her momma into a long hug, resting her chin on top of her momma’s head.  _ “You’d be worrying about me even if I was still living here. _ ”

“ _ Damn right. _ ”

Nicole pulls back and nods firmly.  _ “Okay. I’m going. I’ll call you when I get there,”  _ she promises.

Her momma leans in through the passenger window as Nicole starts the car. “ _ Purgatory ain’t gonna know what hit ‘em, baby _ .”

Nicole had come back to herself just as a barbell holding 50 pound weights on each side came down towards her face. 

She looks at the business card again and sighs heavily. The list on her bedroom door has so many options, but there’s something about this card that keeps calling her back to the idea of Purgatory. That, and her vision. She reaches for her phone and punches in a number, then folds the card up and puts it in her wallet. 

“Hi, Sheriff Nedley?” She takes a deep breath. “This is Nicole Haught calling. About that job opening you said you had?”

 

-

When Nicole ends up at Shorty’s after her shift, there’s a woman behind the bar she doesn’t recognize. She lingers at the doorway for a second and tries to remember if Waverly said she wasn’t working today. They’d been texting late last night and Nicole had drifted off once or twice before finally saying goodnight - everything after 11pm was a total blur to her. She racks her brain but can’t remember and she decides she’ll risk it and stick around for a beer.

She adjusts her uniform shirt, glad she left her hat in the cruiser. It’s slightly unbuttoned and she’s clearly off-duty, but a couple of regulars at the bar still nod hello at her in formal, jerky motions. 

“Officer,” the woman greets. “What can I get ‘cha?”

Nicole orders a bottle of beer and leans back on her seat, scanning the bar reflexively. The York brothers aren’t here tonight and Nicole feels herself relaxing a little. The vision she had of them has been giving her nightmares lately and she keeps looking over her shoulder, wondering if today will be the day they corner her. Tonight the pool tables are empty and she briefly thinks about going over there when a cold bottle is dropped in front of her. She looks up with a grateful smile.

“On the house,” the woman says when Nicole goes to drop a bill on the bar top.

Nicole frowns. “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

“Your money is no good here, tonight, Officer. Waverly told me what you did for her, calling about her sister. So this squares us up.” The woman holds out her hand. “I’m Gus. Gus McCready. Me and my Curtis practically raised Waverly.”

Nicole remembers the story Linda told her. “Nicole Haught,” she says, shaking Gus’s hand.

“I know,” Gus says. “Waverly talks a lot about you.”

Nicole nearly chokes on the sip of beer she takes. “She does?”

Gus smirks a little. “She sure does. Officer Haught this and Officer Haught that. I was starting to think you were a figment of her imagination.”

“Gus,” someone groans.

Nicole smiles wide. “Hey, Waves.”

Gus’s grin stretches across her face. “Hey, Waves,” she echoes. “Didn’t see you there.”

Waverly narrows her eyes at Gus and shakes her head. “Don’t you have something to do?”

Gus throws up her hands but is still smiling. “Nice to meet you, Officer.”

“Nicole,” Nicole corrects. “Please.”

Gus nods sharply. “Nice to meet you, Nicole.”

Nicole turns her attention to Waverly as Gus ducks through the swinging door and into the back room. Nicole’s eyes stray to Waverly’s neck, to the spot she had seen a bullet go through. Her skin is still a little pink where the rope had been but other than that, it’s unmarred perfection. Nicole’s chest aches. Waverly tips her head to the side and Nicole looks away, sipping from her beer.

“You didn’t say you were coming in tonight,” Waverly says, wiping down a glass.

Nicole shrugs. “Last minute decision. It was either come see you or go home to my cat and fridge full of takeout.”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “Way to make a girl feel special,” she grumbles.

Nicole leans forward on her elbow. “You are special, Waverly,” she says just a little too honestly.

Waverly pauses for a moment, a glass in one hand and a rag in the other. She smiles slowly. “You think so?”

“You don’t know?” Nicole breathes out.

Waverly’s eyes soften. “Tell me,” she says, her voice just as low.

Nicole opens her mouth, ready to list all the reasons why Waverly Earp is the most special person she’s ever met when someone drops a glass on the other side of the bar, shattering the moment in two. Nicole pulls back a little at the noise, blinking a few times. Waverly’s head turns in the direction of the grumbling and she sighs heavily, putting down the glass she’s cleaning and grabbing the broom and dustpan. She rounds the bar and heads to clean up the mess. Nicole watches her work, reassuring the customers and promising them a new beer. By the time Waverly gets back behind the bar, working in front of Nicole, the moment is over.

“Damn tourists,” she mutters to Nicole. She shakes her head. “Anyway, how’s Banjo?”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “She’s fine. Just like every other time you’ve asked about her.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Waverly chides. “It’s not her fault she’s that cute.”

“You’ve never met her,” Nicole pointed out.

“I think that’s on purpose,” Waverly decides. “I think you’re keeping us apart because you know how well we’d get along.”

Nicole snorts and takes a long sip of her beer. “Wouldn't be the first time a girl has come over for me and stayed for Banjo.”

Waverly stares at her oddly for a moment. “What?”

Nicole sighs and puts her beer down, sliding the near-empty bottle a few inches back and forth between her hands. “My ex. Came over for, you know,  _ me _ . Tried to take off with Banjo.”

“What?” Waverly asks again. 

Nicole sighs again. “Amy. Man, she was… interesting. Come to think of it, she also tried to steal all my towels.” Nicole tilts her head to one side and purses her lips. “Huh,” she says to herself.

“Amy,” Waverly repeats. 

Nicole looks up sharply. Waverly’s eyes are narrowed, her gaze going over Nicole’s shoulder. “Yeah,” she says slowly. “My ex. Amy.”

“And Amy is a girl,” Waverly says, her voice a little far away.

“Yes.”

Waverly looks at her, through her, and Nicole doesn’t feel her panic dissipate at all. She scratches at the back of her neck and picks at the label on her beer bottle. 

“That’s… That’s okay, right?” she finally asks.

“What?” Waverly asks.

“It’s okay that Amy, my ex, is a girl?” Nicole asks tentatively.

Waverly finally meets her eyes and frowns. “Wait, what? You’re…” she trails off.

Nicole waits but Waverly doesn’t say anything else. 

There’s a pressure in her chest and her lump in her throat. She finishes the last sip of her beer and drops the bill she had put back in her pocket on the bar under the empty bottle. “It’s fine, Waverly,” she mutters. She gets off her stool and pauses for a moment but Waverly is still staring at her with a frown on her face. Nicole shakes her head, mostly to clear the burn from behind her eyes. It works until she gets to her car and then it’s too much for her to hold back.

She turns off her phone when she gets home, curls herself around Banjo, and wonders where she would be if she never saw herself getting into a car and driving to Purgatory. 


	5. v.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has now become AT LEAST a seven (7) chapter adventure. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I planned and still messed up the pacing.
> 
> Also, kids, go home and hug your betas. They deserve it.

Her phone is quiet for the rest of the week and into the weekend. Her momma calls a few times and Nathan texts her stupid pictures of cats and one of Bob stuck in a tree after trying to get a kite for the neighbor’s kids.

Waverly doesn’t call or text her, though. Sunday night, Nicole thinks about sending Waverly a picture of Banjo, but she can’t bring herself to make the first move. She lays down in bed and all she can see when she closes her eyes is Waverly’s confusion and hesitation, and when she dreams, the look on Waverly’s face twists into disgust.

On Wednesday morning, her desk phone finally rings, but it’s a number she doesn’t recognize. She puts down her pen and looks around the bullpen before she accepts the call.

It’s an officer from the Fish and Game department, the same guy she talked to a few weeks ago. He tells her Bobby Spade ‘flipped like a flapjack’ and named everyone he was selling to, buying from, and the people he’s sure stole the game meat from his locker. Nicole snorts when she hears that. She’s surprised it took them this long to get the information out of him; it took her ten minutes. She doesn’t say that, though. She just hums and nods at the right moments until he tells her he wants to run a joint task force and he wants her to be their point of contact in Purgatory.

Nicole pulls the phone away from her ear and stares at it for a moment. “Wait, what?”

He doesn’t laugh. “My boss wants me to take this down. But it’s a small town and no one is going to trust me. I’m proposing a partnership between your office and mine. If we work together, I think we can do this in a timely manner.  Will you need to ask your boss first?”

Nicole nods silently and then remembers she needs to speak up. “Yeah. I mean, yes. I’ll need to talk to the Sheriff and give you a call back. Is this the number I can reach you at?”

She hangs up feeling numb. She looks around and tries to figure out if this is real life or if she’s still dreaming and Waverly’s disappointment has somehow morphed into professional disaster. But Pine is still at his desk picking at his tie and Linda is at the counter, rhythmically turning pages in her newest paperback. The world is still turning and the Fish and Game Division wants her to be on a joint task force.

Nicole goes to to text Waverly - she gets as far as typing out a message - when she pauses and puts her phone down. She decides to go into Nedley’s office instead.

She raps on the doorframe and waits for him to look up and beckon her in.

“What do you need, Haught?”

Nicole takes a deep breath and closes the door. “Sir, we have to talk.”

 

-

Roy in dispatch calls her extension later that afternoon and tells her there’s someone calling from Shorty’s and they’re requesting a uniform to come down and handle an intoxicated patron trying to get into his car.

Nicole sighs and eyes the pile of paperwork sitting on her desk. She pulled all of the files for all of the break-ins reported at Spade’s Butcher Shop and she had planned to bury herself in them to avoid thinking about how she was going to skip her regular Wednesday night at Shorty’s.

“Pine and Thompson aren’t busy,” she mutters into the receiver.

Roy snorts in her ear. “They never are. Come on, you love taking the calls from Shorty’s.”

She usually does. Roy had been sending her out to Shorty’s for every call that came in while she was on shift for the last few weeks. He doesn’t even mind when she goes out of service for a few minutes to talk to Waverly. But she can’t tell Roy that she doesn’t want this call; that she’s terrified to see Waverly and to not be welcomed; that she’s worried Waverly will hate her. So she takes down all the information the caller gave and shuts off her computer and shrugs into her jacket.

She gets to Shorty’s quickly and sits outside in her cruiser for a few minutes, humming along to “Mama’s Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys” while she gathers her nerve. A Tammy Wynette song comes on next and Nicole huffs. She’s heard this song four times in the last hour. She adjusts her hat squarely on her head and takes a deep breathe before she pushes through the door and down the steps into the bar.

She stumbles coming off the last step, sure her mind is playing a trick on her. She blinks hard a few times but even after that, Waverly is still standing in front of the bar, a shotgun in her hands, and a sheepish Cecil Bailey on a stool next to her.

“Uh,” Nicole starts. She stops, wets her lips, and tries again. “I mean.”

Cecil’s eyes widen in relief as he sees Nicole, but Waverly shifts her gun and he pales again.

Waverly frowns a little. “They sent you?”

Nicole pulls back, swallowing her disappointment. “Yeah,” she says roughly. “Is that a problem?”

Waverly softens just a little. “No. But Roy said you weren’t working.”

Nicole frowns now. “Oh. Well,” she tries. “I am.”

“I see that,” Waverly says.

Cecil leans on his stool, popping up around Waverly’s shoulder. “Can we go?”

“Shut up, Cecil,” Waverly snaps.

“Be quiet, sir,” Nicole says at the same time.

Nicole stares at Waverly for a moment, unsure of what to say. _I’m sorry_ and _I miss talking to you_ and _We can just be friends_ and _I don’t want anything you don’t want_ are all on the tip of her tongue but she can’t get herself to say any of those things.

Waverly breaks first. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Nicole echoes.

“You haven’t been in this week.”

“Doubles. And Diaz wanted to take his wife on vacation,” Nicole explains.

Waverly nods slowly. “Right.” She shrugs. “I thought you would have let me know.”

“I thought you would have asked,” Nicole admits.

Waverly exhales softly.

Nicole is quiet again, trying to figure out what comes next. She fiddles with her belt, thumbing the bottom of her jacket, doing anything to stop herself from crossing the room and pulling Waverly into a hug. There’s a shadow across her neck from the shotgun in her hand and Nicole feels her stomach turn.

Cecil coughs loudly and Nicole flinches at the noise. “Sorry,” he apologies. “I know trying to drive home was a bad idea. But, Officer,” he says, addressing Nicole. “Can you get her to put down that shot gun?”

Nicole blinks a few times. “Oh. _Oh_. Uh.” She gestures to Waverly. “Can you put that down?”

Waverly instantly puts the gun down on the bar. Cecil’s sigh of relief is loud. “I asked you ten times,” he complains.

Waverly doesn’t even look back at him. “You also asked me to call you a rocket ship to the moon, Cecil. And if you keep leaving this bar drunk, they’re going to shut us down for over-serving.” She whirls around to face him. “Even though I _know_ you’re getting other people to buy for you.”

“So you decided not to let him leave,” Nicole finishes.

Waverly nods sharply, crossing her arms over her chest. “And it worked.”

Nicole pulls her notebook out of her pocket and flips it open to the description of the incident she scribbled down earlier. She writes down Cecil’s name and information and the time and pauses there, because everything else she needs to write down means she has to talk to Waverly. She scribbles a few circles around the page before she sighs and looks up.

“So you wanna tell me what happened?”

Waverly shrugs. “It’s pretty self-explanatory.”

Nicole winces.

“Cecil drank too much,” Waverly continues. “He had other people order for him when I cut him off. He tried to leave and I stopped him.”

“With that shot gun,” Nicole adds.

Waverly nods and pats the gun, a small smile on her face.

Nicole rubs at the back of her neck and sighs. “And I assume you have an LTC for it?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Waverly blinks at her. “A license to carry,” she explains.

“I know what an LTC is,” Waverly says roughly.

“So you have one,” Nicole prompts.

“Well,” Waverly starts. She looks at Nicole’s face and sighs. “No.”

Nicole’s shoulders sag. “Waverly,” she mutters.

“Don’t _Waverly_ me, Nicole Haught,” Waverly snaps.

Nicole straightens up, her voice dropping low. “It’s _Officer_ Haught.”

Waverly’s eyes flash and she puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t need to have a license for my shotgun, _Officer_ Haught. Does this look like a handgun to you?”

Nicole matches Waverly’s stance. “Have you conveniently forgotten that you are _brandishing a weapon_ and _threatening_ a citizen in _public_? Because that changes the rules, Ms. Earp.”

Waverly takes a small step forward and Nicole resists the urge to back down. “So what’re you going to do about it? Fine me? _Arrest me_?”

Cecil slumps back on his seat and slowly slides his hand along the bar towards a half-filled glass. Nicole glares at him and he pulls his hand back into his lap.

Nicole turns back to Waverly and takes a small step forward. “Waverly,” she warns.

Waverly turns away from her, looking across the bar at the pool tables. The bar is mostly empty and the only people still hanging around at this point in the afternoon probably should be breathalyzed before they leave. Nicole counts ten people and at least thirty empty bottles and cans scattered across the layout. She knows from experience that Waverly can get rid of the people in under five minutes and the cans and bottles even quicker. The floors don’t look too bad; Waverly can probably get away with just a quick sweep before the night crowd. Nicole scans the bar but it looks like Waverly got a head start on restocking that too.

Nicole turns her attention back to Waverly and studies her. Waverly is still looking at the pool tables, taking slow, deep breathes. Nicole watches Waverly nod to herself and turn around, eyes finding Nicole’s.

Waverly opens her mouth but the words never come.

Nicole feels herself bend at the waist and she’s out of Shorty’s and back in the station, watching herself lean against the front counter while Linda shakes her head.

 _“You gotta get yourself together, girl,”_ Linda is saying.

Nicole sighs. _“But it’s not just me_ , _”_ she whines.

Linda puts down her book. _“Listen to me, Nicole. Waverly Earp is not the kind of girl you give up on. And if you’re willing to throw the towel in now, well. Maybe you ain’t any better than Champ after all.”_

Nicole watches herself straighten up and her eyes flare with anger. _“I can’t-”_

Linda waves a hand at her. _“Don’t you tell me,”_ she says. _“You tell that to Waverly_.”

Nicole blinks and Waverly is in front of her, staring at her expectantly, wringing her hands.

“Well?” she asks impatiently.

Nicole frowns and scratches her neck. “What?”

“I said,” Waverly starts. She stops, frowns at Nicole, and then huffs. “You know what, Nicole? Forget it.” She steps away from Cecil and throws an arm in his direction. “Just, do what you came here to do. Your job,” she adds.

Nicole blinks a few more times and tries to figure out what she missed, but Waverly won’t meet her eyes and when she steps forward and reaches for Waverly, Waverly ducks out of reach and grabs her gun off the bar.

“Wait,” Nicole breathes out.

Waverly ignores her and rounds the bar, stashing her gun below the register and turning her back to Nicole.

Nicole waits another minute, but Waverly is emptying the dishwasher and doesn’t look back over her shoulder to see if Nicole is still there. She sighs and gestures to Cecil. Cecil nearly hits the floor as he slides off his stool and follows her outside to her cruiser on shaky legs. Nicole slams the door behind him just a little too hard and stops herself before she gets in the driver’s seat.

She can see through the windows into Shorty’s. Waverly is leaning against the bar, her forehead in her hands. Nicole watches her shoulders rise and fall as she breathes and then she straightens up, shaking her head and turning back to the dishwasher.

Nicole drops Cecil off at his front door and decides that leaving him to deal with his wife is punishment enough. She drives slowly back to the station and when she gets to the front counter, Linda is glaring at her over her romance novel.

“What?” Nicole snaps.

Linda puts down her book. “Roy called. Dispatch got a call from Shorty’s.”

Nicole growls. “I was _just_ there.”

“That seems to be the problem,” Linda tells her. “Seems like Ms. Earp has requested that Officer Haught respond to call as a last resort. She meant you,” Linda points out unnecessarily.

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Obviously.”

Linda frowns at her. “You need to get yourself together, girl.”

Nicole sighs. “But it’s not just me,” she whines.

Linda puts down her book. “Listen to me, Nicole. Waverly Earp is not the kind of girl you give up on. And if you’re willing to throw the towel in now, well. Maybe you ain’t any better than Champ after all.”

Nicole watches herself straighten up and her eyes flare with anger. “I can’t-”

Linda waves a hand at her. “Don’t you tell me,” she says. “You tell that to Waverly.”

Nicole clenches her hand into a fist and lets it go, exhaling noisily. She ignores Linda opening her mouth to say something else and grabs the stack of Spade’s Butcher Shop files, her coffee mug, and spreads it all out in the far conference room, creating timelines and tracking details.

Something is working at the back of her brain but she can’t quite put her finger on it. She stares at the work she’s laid out, replaying everything she knows in her head, but she keeps thinking of Waverly - leaning into the bar with her head in her hands.

She’s not going to get anything done if all she can think about is Waverly.

 _Waverly Earp is not the kind of girl you give up on_ , Linda’s voice echoes in her head.

Nicole sighs, shuts the lights off in the conference room, and locks the door behind her.

 

-

She gets off work late on Friday night, her head pulsing. Bobby Spade had given Fish and Game more names and while Nicole isn’t really surprised, it’s still going to take some time to digest all of the information. Nedley knocks on the conference room door at 4:45 and tells her to take a break.

“You look like you’re gonna fall over,” he says. There’s an edge of kindness to his voice. He’s been letting her work in the conference room, keeping guys like Pine and Augustine away from what she’s working on. He’s been making Pine handle her routine calls and Nicole stifles a laugh as she remembers the picture someone took of Pine trying to get a cow out of the middle of the road. “I’m not paying you overtime, you know.”

Nicole nods, eyes still roaming the large whiteboard chart she’s constructed. “I’m aware, sir.”

Nedley comes inside the conference room and shuts the door firmly behind him. “Listen, Haught,” he starts. His voice is tighter now, uncomfortable. Nicole finally looks away from her work and he’s even closer. His cheeks are red and he’s looking past her. Nicole straightens up a little. “Now, I know you don’t care about making friends here. And I ain’t saying that like it’s a bad thing.” He sighs. “But my daughter, have you met her? Chrissy? Anyway, she’s got all these magazines she’s always leaving around the house and sometimes a man runs out of reading material.”

“Uh, sir-”

“I read an article that said a woman should try and expand every area of her life,” Nedley rushes on. “Your professional life is, uh, what the hell did they call it? Booming, I think. But I know you and Waverly Earp aren’t speaking because there’s been four calls to Shorty’s in the last two days and each time Gus calls to complain about the way Pine or Augustine handled the situation. Gus mighta mentioned Waverly doesn’t quite like to hear your name.”

Nicole coughs softly, her stomach turning at the idea that her name has become a curse word. “Sir, is there a point to this?”

Nedley’s face is bright red. “You should try and make some friends. More than the Earps, I mean. My daughter is about your age and she’s got some friends you might like to know.”

Nicole tips her head to the side in confusion. “Sir, are you trying to set me up? With friends?”

Nedley pauses for a moment and then stands a little taller. “Let’s forget we had this conversation.”

“Gladly,” Nicole agrees quickly.

Nedley nods sharply and turns to leave the conference room. He pauses at the door and looks back at her. “I wasn’t kidding, Haught. Get out of here. You can stay until 5 o’clock and then I want you out.”

She finally makes it to the door at 6 o’clock and she puts her head down as she walks past Nedley’s office, avoiding the glare she knows he’s giving her. She says goodnight to Linda, wishes Diaz a good shift, and when she gets behind the wheel of her cruiser, she decides she’s going to ‘expand her personal life’ with a six pack of beer.

It’s not much, but it’s a start.

Her personal life is very small, though, and she reaches for a 40 oz. bottle of beer she’s been wanting to try. Waverly Earp is reaching for something right next to it.

Nicole fumbles with the glass bottle for a moment but it lands in her basket with a sharp _clink_. Waverly’s eyes dart in her direction but she doesn’t turn her head to really look. She simply reaches for another bottle, this time reaching across Nicole’s front and plucking it off the shelf.

“Hi,” Nicole says quietly.

Waverly ignores her. She takes a few small steps down the aisle, scanning the labels.

Nicole sighs. “You’re not even going to say hello now?”

Waverly pulls another bottle off the shelf. She looks into her cart, counts, and nods to herself, continuing down the aisle.

“Waverly, come on,” Nicole says. She follows a few steps behind Waverly. “I think things got… a little weird and we need to talk.”

Waverly snorts but keeps going, rounding the end cap and moving down the wine aisle.

Nicole stays behind her, shifting her basket in her arms as it gets heavy. “Or I can talk and you can listen?”

Waverly picks a few bottle of wine off the shelf.

“Sure,” Nicole says to herself. “That works.”

Waverly stops her cart and scans the aisle, pushing up on her toes to look over Nicole’s shoulder. She drops back down onto the balls of her feet and stares pointedly at Nicole. Nicole’s first thought is that Waverly still looks beautiful even when she’s angry. Her second thought is that the way she purses her lips makes the small scar on her chin stand out. Nicole feels her arm moving without her permission, reaching to touch Waverly’s chin, and she shifts her basket to her other arm instead.

“What do you need?” Nicole asks softly. “Just tell me.”

Waverly holds her gaze for fifteen heartbeats. “I need you to move,” she says flatly. “The wine I’m looking for is behind you.”

Nicole steps to the side, slightly dazed. Waverly’s arm brushes against her shoulder as she reaches the wine. Before Nicole can get her bearings back, Waverly is moving towards another aisle.

“Waverly,” she breathes out.

Waverly whips around, her cart swinging dangerously towards the shelf. “Isn’t harassment against the law, _Officer_?”

Nicole reels back as if Waverly’s words are bolts of electricity, sparking against her skin. Her arms go slack and the basket slides from the crook of her elbow to her wrist before she catches it. Her body jerks forward with the weight shift. “Waverly,” she says again.

“Harassment, by law, is defined as a course of conduct which annoys, threatens, intimidates, alarms, or puts a person in fear of their safety,” Waverly recites.

“I know what the law is,” Nicole says slowly.

“Well right now, Officer Haught? You’re _annoying_ me.”

Nicole pulls back a little more. “Waverly, I would never -”

“Then don’t,” Waverly spits. She turns and pushes her cart roughly, down the aisle and around the endcap and out of Nicole’s sight.

Nicole swallows heavily and blinks a few times to clear the burn in her eyes. She wipes her free hand across her face and takes a deep breath to try and calm herself down.

“Hey there, Officer,” someone - Sue Yates - greets.

Nicole waves back awkwardly, trying to keep her head down so Sue can’t see her.

“If you have a minute,” Sue starts. “I’d like to ask you-”

The shelves swirl around Nicole and the weight on her arm from the shopping basket dissipates. The liquor bottles disappear around her and the harsh fluorescent lighting fades into the soft glow of incandescent light bulbs. The room is soft and warm and Nicole doesn’t recognize it but then Waverly is rounding the corner and coming into the room and her hair is long and straight and the light hits her dress in a way that makes Nicole’s chest tighten.

Two girls are with her, a blonde and a brunette that looks vaguely familiar to Nicole. They’re all dressed up and Waverly’s face is pinched uncomfortably. It takes Nicole a second to place Stephanie Jones but she frowns when she thinks of Waverly and Stephanie being friends. Nicole has seen Stephanie around town, flashing her fancy ring to anyone who looks in her direction. She didn’t know Waverly was friends with Stephanie.

 _“I’m gonna go bum a cigarette off of Henry,”_ Stephanie huffs. She pulls the door open and startles. Nicole looks past her to the front lawn and frowns; she’s inside the Earp homestead.

There’s a man on the other side of it. He startles, too, but recovers, his eyes on Waverly. _“Special delivery,”_ he says.

 _“Omg, bitch,”_ Stephanie squeals. _“You_ did _hire a stripper!”_

 _“Uh, no,”_ the guy says. _“I just have a package.”_

_“Is it a big package?”_

Stephanie and the other woman laugh and some dance song comes on. Nicole squirms uncomfortably as Stephanie and the other woman dance around the man. She watches Waverly’s face instead, that pinched look still there and growing worse. She’s staring at the man with a look on her face that Nicole can’t name. It’s like she knows this man, or what he’s here for - even though it’s obvious he’s not here to entertain.

 _“OK, Magic Mike, show us your moves,”_ Waverly says through her teeth.

 _“Take it off!”_ the other woman says.

The man moves awkwardly, his body jerky and his dancing unpracticed. Stephanie and the other woman cheer and pull his clothes off of him, dropping them to the floor. Nicole watches Waverly’s eyes stray to the mantle - to the shotgun on the mantle. She looks at the man and he’s staring at the axe near the fireplace.

Nicole doesn’t know what’s happening, but she knows it’s not good.

 _“I think he’s local,”_ Stephanie whispers loudly behind her hand.

The grandfather clock chimes loudly, and just as the last bell chimes, there’s a loud _pop, pop_ from outside. Stephanie and the other woman scream but the man and Waverly barely flinch.

Nicole watches the man’s body language shift; he goes from awkward to rigid and steps out of his pants, taking two long strides towards Waverly. He grabs her around the neck and lifts.

 _“Where is the skull, little girl,”_ he growls.

 _“Put her down!”_ the other woman yells.

 _“This is not sexy!”_ Stephanie shouts.

Nicole feels her stomach turn over and her hands ache but the man still has Waverly by the throat. She tries to will herself to move forward, to pick up that axe and hit him across the back.

Waverly grips his forearm, trying to find leverage, twisting in his hold, but he turns his wrist - sharp and to the right - and the _crack_ that follows suckerpunches Nicole in the stomach.

Waverly’s body hits the ground with a heavy _thud_.

Nicole blinks and gasps, coughing as she drops to her knees in the liquor store wine aisle. She feels her basket hit the ground too hard and then there’s warm beer pooling at her knees and under her hands.

“Officer Haught!” Sue Yates shouts, her hands pulling at Nicole’s arms until Nicole is standing upright.

Nicole feels her body sway and Sue catches her, holding her still.

“Are you okay?” Sue asks. “You fainted.”

Nicole blinks, trying to clear her head. “I did?”

Sue’s face is lined with worry. “I think we should call Scoot and Drew.”

Nicole frowns. She doesn’t want to drag Purgatory’s only ambulance crew out on a Friday night because she fainted in the liquor store. She shakes her head and rests her hand on Sue’s shoulder for a moment before she speaks. “No. I’m fine. I just haven’t eaten a lot today,” she lies.

Sue eyes her warily but eventually nods. “Well, do you have someone to drive you home? I’m not sure you should be behind a wheel.”

Nicole knows she shouldn’t be, if the dots in her peripheral vision are anything to go by. Her first thought is to call Waverly but she shoves down that instinct and shakes her head again. “I live a few blocks away. I can just… I’ll walk.”

Sue fusses over her for a few moments more before she lets Nicole pick up her basket and stack the broken bottles inside of it. She looks around guiltily for a ‘wet floor’ sign and gives up, heading to the counter to pay and let them know - even though the whole store has to know what she did. She thanks Sue and pushes out of the liquor store onto the street, taking a deep breath.

Her mind goes back to Waverly. She looks in all directions but the red jeep she only now remembers seeing in the parking lot a few spots over from her cruiser is long gone. She rests her brown paper bag against the hood of her cruiser and takes a deep breath before she fishes her phone out of her coat pocket. She opens her messenging app and types out a message before she can stop herself.

She wants to type _Why is death following you?_ or _I keep seeing you dying_ or _I don’t know what happened but I just want to go back_ but she ends up with something else.

 **Nicole** _[18:32:09]: I only want what you want_

As she looks up from her phone, an SUV pulls up to a stop in front of her. The passenger window goes down and Nedley leans across the center console. “Get in, Haught.”

She opens her mouth to argue but Nedley glares at her and she ducks her head, sliding into his passenger seat. “How did you know I was here?”

Nedley pulls onto Main Street. “Susie called. Said something about you passin’ out in the middle of the damn store.”

Nicole sighs and stares out the window.

“I thought I told you to go home an hour ago?”

Nicole shrugs. “I was headed home.”

She doesn’t question why Nedley knows where she lives, but when he shuts off the car and moves to follow her, she frowns at him.

“If you fall and crack your head going up those stairs, I’ll have to find a new officer,” Nedley says gruffly.

Nicole leads him up the stairs and pauses at her door. “My cat doesn’t like men,” she warns.

Nedley shrugs. “I ain’t comin’ inside, Haught. I’m just walking you to your door.”

Nicole’s lips twitch. “Okay, sir.” She looks at the door and back at Nedley. “Well, here we are.”

Nedley coughs and adjusts his belt. “Alright then. Take it easy tonight. And, uh, come in at ten tomorrow.”

“I’m scheduled for nine,” she says.

Nedley looks at her. “I know what time you’re scheduled for,” he says. He starts back down the stairs and pauses at the bottom. “Ten o’clock, Haught. And you can make it up to me by covering half of Diaz’s night. Pine will cover the other.”

Nicole nods and goes into her apartment. She watches through the window as he drives away and then turns to Banjo.

“What a terrible day,” she sighs.

 

-

Nicole is rubbing anxiously at her neck, checking the time, when she hears a knock at the door next to her. She looks over as Wynonna leans against the door frame, surprised to see her. She had heard there was a party at the homestead tonight for Stephanie Jones; Sue Yates had seen her at the coffee shop this morning, asked about her head, and then launched into the weekend gossip.

Nicole’s heart had fluttered hearing that. If there was going to be a party at the homestead tonight and Stephanie Jones was going to be there, then tonight was the night that Waverly-

She can’t bring herself to think it.

Her phone had remained silent all day but the message she sent Waverly the night before had been delivered and read and it wasn’t much but it as enough for now. Still, she had spent the whole day anxiously checking the time.

She remembered seeing the clock strike twelve. If she could make it out to the homestead before midnight...

“Saturday night,” Wynonna says. “I’m the town pariah with ten years of bad deeds and social suicides to make up for; what’s your excuse?”

Nicole’s smiles humorlessly. “Nedley,” she says simply.

“Say no more,” Wynonna says. She starts working on the cap on her bottle of whisky and Nicole starts shuffling around some files she’s been reading. “Bosses are the worst. Also, I think mine might be dead.”

Nicole’s head snaps around.

“Oh, kidding,” Wynonna says, waving her concern away. She takes a sip from her bottle.

Nicole studies Wynonna for a long moment, watching her swallow a mouthful of liquor. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.

Wynonna makes an unconvincing noise and gives her a thumbs up.

Nicole nods at her for a moment before she sighs. “Well, at least I’m not the only one who wasn’t invited to the party. Makes me feel better.”

Wynonna frowns and pushes off the doorframe, walking a few steps towards her desk. “What party?”

After Nicole explains what she heard, Wynonna slumps to the floor, her back against Augustine’s desk, kicking at the wheels of Nicole’s chair. Nicole sighs and sits down next to her and loosens the first button on her shirt.

“You know exactly who she invited, too,” Wynonna says. “Chrissy Nedley.”

Nicole lets out a small gasp. “What?” That’s why the other woman in her vision had looked familiar. “Sheriff’s daughter?”

“Mm-hmm,” Wynonna says around the lip of the bottle. “And Stephanie Jones.”

Nicole doesn’t point out that she knew Stephanie Jones was going to be there; that she was the one who told Wynonna that. Wynonna gets a small smirk on her face and puts her whisky down.

“You know, one time, Stephanie told me that I should think about getting a _butt lift_.”

“What?” Nicole asks. She throws her head side to side in disbelief. “Your ass is like…” She throws a hand out in the air. “It’s top shelf, man. It’s top shelf.”

She knows it’s the few sips of alcohol she’s had that are loosening her lips like this, but she can’t stop herself. Nedley is in her head, telling her to make new friends. _More than the Earps_ , he had said. She figures she should start slow.

“Thanks,” Wynonna says gratefully.

It’s quiet for a moment and Nicole watches a flood of emotions flicker across Wynonna’s face before she frowns - a lot like Waverly - and sighs. “Have I pulled Waves too close?”

Nicole doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You know, I think that Waverly has spent her _whole life_ tailoring who she is to the people she’s with.” She thinks instantly of the look on Waverly’s face at the homestead, the way her lips pursed together and her eyes narrowed as Stephanie and Chrissy talked around her. “She’s only now just figuring out what she really wants,” she finishes softly.

She thinks of Waverly that first day at Shorty’s and the way she said, ‘ _See? Told you I didn’t need need your help_ ’ and she feels herself flush a little and she knows her own face is stretched wide in a smile.

“Dude, you’re like a walking bumper sticker,” Wynonna groans.

“Who’s armed,” Nicole adds, giggling.

Wynonna swats her gently. “Waverly should be hanging out with you.”

“I agree,” Nicole says, softer than she wants to. She takes a long pull from Wynonna’s whisky bottle and laughs when Wynonna rolls forward and stretches out on her stomach, scraping a piece of paper off the floor.

“What’s this?” she asks.

Nicole is still laughing as she grabs the back of Wynonna’s belt and helps her back into a sitting position. She tapers off as she gets a look at the picture in Wynonna’s hand. “That is victim number three.” She puts the bottle down, feeling suddenly somber.

“Same guy killed three women?” Wynonna asks, her eyes locked on the picture of Joyce Arbour.

“Yeah, killing them was only the start,” Nicole says with a start. She shifts and nods at the picture. “Joyce Arbour.” She reaches for her desk and grabs a file near the edge. She flips it open. “She’s 22. We found her Wednesday morning and the cause of death _appears_ to be multiple lacerations, but of course.” She thumbs through all the notes in the case file. “The autopsy report is practically illegible.” She hands Wynonna another picture -  a close up of some lacerations on Joyce’s neck.

“Dolls picked a great time to go AWOL,” Wynonna mutters.

Nicole looks at her for a moment, trying to read the underlying current in that sentence. But it must be the alcohol coursing through her veins because she struggles to pick it up. She frowns as she notices something hit the photo and splatter. She looks up at the same time as Wynonna does and she tries her best not to panic, but Wynonna has a bloody nose.

“Uh, I need to see the body,” she says.

And somehow, a few sips of whisky in, Nicole is playing Trish Walker to Wynonna’s Jessica Jones as they flash Nicole’s badge at the morgue and wander back to the autopsy room, whisky still in hand. Nicole holds the case file in her hand and she laughs when Wynonna mutters, _‘Ah, ew’_ when they walk into the room.

Nicole leans over a body, checking the tag tied to the toe. “Yeah. They say you get used to the smell,” she says conversationally.

Wynonna waves a hand at her. “I spent a summer’s probation on roadkill removal.” She huffs. “This is nothing.”

Nicole still sees her wince slightly at the amount of blood seeping through the white sheet covering the body. She moves on to the next body, reaching for the toe tag. The third tag she reads is the right one. “Here she is,” she says softly. “Joyce Arbour.”

Wynonna meets her eyes and puts the whisky bottle down with a _thump_. Nicole rolls her eyes and grabs the bottle, putting it on the floor below the table. She’s had a few sips but it hasn’t dulled her respect for the dead. Wynonna flashes her a apologetic look, fleeting but still genuine. Wynonna pulls back the sheet slowly and Nicole leans over her shoulder.

She frowns. She’s not sure why she didn’t see it before, but the pictures didn’t do Joyce Arbour’s face justice anyway and maybe, she thinks, that’s why she missed it.

“She kind of looks like you, Wynonna,” she says.

“Jesus Christ,” Wynonna breathes out. “Who did this?”

“Someone who knew what they were doing,” a man says from behind them.

Nicole reaches for her gun before she even turns, widening her body to hide Wynonna behind her.

“Dude!” Wynonna shouts, peering over Nicole’s shoulder.

Nicole can’t lift her eyes up from the man’s hands as she tries to slow her breathing down. She makes a concentrated effort to catalog him and remind herself that he’s in scrubs; he must work here. Slowly she feels her body relax into a natural stance but Wynonna is still behind her, growling from her protected spot.

“This is a _morgue._ Wear a bell or something, okay?”

The man shrugs. “Sorry. Once a ninja, always a ninja.” He flashes Nicole a smile that feels fake. She forces one back at him. “Plus I forget I’m wearing these cotton balls for shoes. They help absorb the smell.” He shakes his head. “But you two pretty ladies don’t care about that. Um, I’m Dr. Reggie,” he introduces himself. “The unlucky SOB who has to make sure, the, uh, dead don’t rise again.”

His smile is still off.

“You suck at your job,” Wynonna says flatly.

He leans forward. “Uh, excuse me?”

Wynonna doesn’t spare him a glance. “Never mind.” She starts to round the top of the table.

Nicole steps in front of Dr. Reggie, halting his forward motion. “Did you do this autopsy report?” she asks.

He takes it from her hands. “Uh… If I’d done this,” he says, taking the report and scanning it. “I wouldn’t have misspelled ‘breasts’.”

Nicole flips the page over, runs her finger down it, and wonders how she missed that in the first place.

“I _can_ tell you something about the body,” Dr. Reggie continues. “Did my own examination.”

Nicole’s instincts flare but Wynonna looks up, interested. “Anything unusual or _creepy_ about the wounds or the way she died?”

“Well, she died because humans can’t survive when their organs are removed,” he says matter-of-factly, chewing on a Twizzler.

“She was alive when he took them out?” Wynonna asks, disgust coloring her voice.

“Correct,” Dr. Reggie chirps. “But the incision isn’t what killed her. He drugged her. Hooked her up to an IV, a blood bag, just like any surgeon would during open heart or intestinal surgery. But _here_ is the uber-weird part,” he says, his voice growing excited. “The wounds were cauterzied as they were made.”

Nicole frowns. “So he cut her open with something hot?”

“Like lightsaber hot,” Dr. Reggie agrees, taking another bite of his Twizzler.

“Hellfire hot,” Wynonna breathes out.

Nicole frowns at Wynonna but turns her attention back to Dr. Reggie before she spends too much time thinking about why that particular phrasing strikes a chord in her. Instead, she shakes her head and tries to put this disjointed picture together. “Alright, so you remove the organs if you’re gonna sell them on the black market. Why would you cut ‘‘em and out and then put ‘em back in?” she asks, her voice trailing off.

“Maybe somebody was looking for something,” Wynonna says, her eyes locked on Joyce’s face.

“You keep looking at her neck,” Dr. Reggie jumps in.

Nicole startles. “No, I don’t.”

Wynonna and Dr. Reggie look at her, twin frowns on their faces.

“I was talking about her,” Dr. Reggie says, nodding at Wynonna.

Nicole nods. “Right,” she breathes out. “Okay.” She avoids Wynonna’s eyes and checks her watch. She needs to get going; it’s getting closer to midnight.

“Yeah, there’s a welt,” Wynonna finally says.

Dr. Reggie rounds the autopsy table.

“Dude, I saw in the photos. It’s like the shape of a spade like on a deck of cards,” Wynonna continues.

“Sweet crickets. I missed that entirely,” Dr. Reggie says.

“What would cause that?” Nicole asks.

Wynonna answers. “Well, she was hit by something in the shape of a spade, right?”

“I mean, sure, yeah. Or it could have prolonged pressure,” Dr. Reggie offers. “Did you, uh, study forensics.”

Nicole is about to roll her eyes, catch Wynonna’s gaze, and fake a gag when she hears heavy footsteps echoing through the building. Wynonna’s head snaps up too. Dr. Reggie’s eyes are wide. Nicole’s hand rests on her holster again, her heart racing. She feels off-balance and silently curses whisky and Wynonna Earp. The footsteps stop but a bright blue light goes off behind her, a soft beeping happening every other heartbeat.

Dr. Reggie looks at her. “Someone just went in the cooler. You guys come alone?”

Wynonna meets her eyes. “I don’t know. Did we?”

Nicole pops the snap on her holster and rests her hand on her gun, ready to pull it.

“There more than one way to get inside the cooler?” Wynonna asks.

Dr. Reggie nods. “Uh, yeah. Rear exit.”

Nicole mentally makes a note: she’s going to talk to Nedley about upping security in Purgatory. It may be a small town with some weird secrets, but there’s no reason it can’t invest in a few decent security systems, cameras, and locks. She unholsters her gun and glances at the clock on the wall. She has an hour.

“Okay,” she says. “I got it.” Wynonna pulls her own gun. “Don’t shoot me, Earp.” She heads down the hallway they came in from, her gun out in front of her. She inches down the hall, peeking her head around corners and slinking through the shadows. She reaches the rear door to the cooler easily; it’s right by the entrance to the building. She sighs again. But when she pulls on the handle, the door won’t budge; locked.

Distantly, she hears Wynonna yell her name and she forgets subtlety, jogging down the hall back to the autopsy room.

She comes up behind Wynonna and Dr. Reggie, standing over Joyce Arbour. “The door was locked. I couldn’t get in,” she pants. She looks past them and startles. When she left the autopsy room, she’s one hundred percent sure that Joyce Arbour didn’t have her eyes open or a playing card shoved in her mouth. She goes to say that but she looks up and says, “Jesus, Wynonna,” instead, wiping at her own nose. She watches Wynonna’s hand go to her face and her fingertips come back with blood on them.

The car ride back to the station is quiet. The whisky in Nicole’s blood has settled and she feels clearer, more level-headed. She feels like herself enough to know that this town is more than what it seems and Wynonna Earp knows more than she lets on. Nicole isn’t in the habit of seeing people die often, in her vision or in real time.

But Waverly Earp keeps dying and there were no bodies at the homestead after three men tried to hang Waverly and strange things keep happening in this town and everyone is happy to just keep moving on through their days. Nicole isn’t built to be complacent, though, and she wants to know all the details; the who and the what and the where and the why, but more importantly, the _how_.

And she’s pretty sure Wynonna knows the answer to all of those questions.

They get back to the station and Wynonna is out of her cruiser before she even turns off the engine, storming through the empty bullpen and into the kitchenette.

“Nobody keeps booze in here, Wynonna,” she calls after her, following her into the kitchen and shutting the door behind them. She knows Pine is in here somewhere; probably sleeping in Nedley’s office. “Except you.” She leans back against the small table and crosses her ankles as Wynonna closes one of the cabinets. “You want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Yeah,” Wynonna snaps without looking back at her. She’s rifling through cabinets. “Dry morgue air is murder on the schnoz.”

“Bullshit,” Nicole fires back. “I think somebody’s trying to scare you, toy with you. Why?”

“I picked up this case, like, an hour ago,” Wynonna says. Her back is still to Nicole. “How could-”

“It be connected to you?” Nicole finishes. “Yeah, I would _really_ like to know that too. People getting eaten by something? Call Wynonna. Guy gets murdered by a man in a mirror? Yeah, Wynonna to the rescue.” She knows she’s playing with fire. Wynonna turns to look at her, her eyes dark and unreadable, but Nicole is on a roll now and she can’t stop.

She has thirty minutes to save Waverly’s life and she’s feeling reckless.

“Black Badge specializes in cases that are, uh, too complex for rookie flatfoots, so it makes sense that you’re a bit confused,” Wynonna says, an edge to her voice.

Nicole holds Wynonna’s gaze. “I’m not.”

“Alternately,” Wynonna starts, advancing on her. “I don’t suppose you have a deck of playing cards in this utility belt, huh?” She reaches for Nicole’s belt.

Nicole backs away, twisting her body out of Wynonna’s reach. She tries to mesh this Wynonna, a little angry and a little wild, with the Wynonna she’s met before: the drunk grieving a father figure, the sister holding on for dear life. This Wynonna is different and Nicole feels her defences flaring. “Excuse me?” she challenges.

“How do I know you didn’t double back to mess with the body?” Wynonna hisses. “Yeah, you’re awfully interested in me and my sister. Maybe I should be grilling the shit out of you. Maybe you’re the crazy one.”

Nicole shakes her head sadly, the anger in her fading into pity. “You of all people should know better than to try and make me question my sanity.” She turns on her heel sharply and storms out of the kitchen. She blows by her desk, time ticking now. She’s back in her cruiser within a minute, pulling a u-turn in the parking lot, hard enough to leave skid marks across the white lines.

She presses on the gas pedal, feeling like her foot is going through the floorboards. The clock says 11:48 by the time she gets to the ‘Welcome to Purgatory’ sign and she still has another few miles to go. She can see the homestead lights in the distance and throws the car into neutral, shutting off her headlights as she coasts up to the lychgate, a few hundred yards away from a powder-pink Lincoln Continental. Her dashboard radio reads 11:59. She slips out of her car and along the underbrush until she’s near the homestead, able to see in the window. She can barely make out Waverly’s profile over the hulking frame of the man who is going to try and kill her. Over her shoulder, she sees a woman in hooded cloak and a man in a suit walking through the lychgate.

Her watch hand moves to 12:00.

Suddenly the woman puts her hands out in front of her and moves them sharply to the left. The man in the suit jerks to the left just as a pair of shots ring out. The man’s body crumples to the ground. The woman in the hood glares towards the barn.

A _pop_ , Nicole remembers.

The man inside the house stalks towards Waverly, seizing her by the throat and easily lifting her off the ground. Nicole sprints back to her car and dives through the passenger door, reaching for the controls on her dashboard. She flips her sirens on and the snow lights up blue and red, a loud noise piercing the eery calm around her.

She takes one slow breath and prays the noise was distraction enough for Waverly to get out of his hold.

Nicole makes it back to the window off the porch just in time to see Waverly plunge a pair of scissors into the man’s neck. She watches him fall to the floor and Waverly take deep, shuddering breaths. Her hand is at her neck, her fingers feeling along the bruise already forming. When she looks up and towards the window, Nicole drops down beneath the sill.

Waverly is alive. Nicole did it. She pants, sprawled out on the porch, sitting with her back against the homestead. She made it in time; she saved Waverly’s life.

 _Maybe_ , she thinks, _this is_ my _fate. Maybe I’m destined to save Waverly, time and again_.

There’s a heavy thud of feet on wood and Nicole looks up with wide eyes to find the man in the suit, bullet holes in his chest still smoking, standing in front of her.

“Oh, hell no,” she grunts as she stands, curling her hands into fists. “Not today.”

 

-

It’s morning when everything settles.

Nicole had fought off the Russian mobster wanna-be for nearly an hour before Waverly Earp dropped nearly ten feet into the snow out of the a second-story window, cradling a skull in her arms.

She lets him get the drop on her as she stares at Waverly walking through snow in her gold dress and her lace tights and her heels. Waverly is walking right towards the woman in the hooded cloak, her eyes now glowing a strange teal color. Nicole might not have any fathomable idea of what is going on in this town, but she knows a bad idea when she sees ones.

She did not come all this way to save Waverly from certain death just to have her willingly walk into another.

Close contact combat is useless on the man in the suit. He acts like he barely feels the punches she lands on his ribs and kidneys. His face remains impassive. Rationally, she knows this can’t be happening. She watched this same man be shot, twice. Her fist has accidentally landed in the torn flesh of his chest, the skin puckered near the bullet hole.

The only reasonable explanation is that he’s a zombie. And that’s not reasonable at all.

Waverly holds up the skull in her hands and the man she’s fighting turns and starts staggering in the opposite direction. Nicole pants heavily as she watches Waverly argue with the woman in the cloak. She rests her hand on her gun, ready to storm up behind Waverly if need be.

The man in the suit joins a three other people; Nicole recognizes the man who tried to kill Waverly, a pair of scissors sticking out of his ear. There’s a woman Nicole doesn’t know, blood running under her eyes. The other woman is Stephanie Jones, her neck bent at a funny angle. They’re advancing slowly on Waverly, their feet dragging through the snow. Waverly raises the skull and the picket line of staggering bodies turns and slowly moves towards the homestead. She tries to intercept the man in the suit again but her eyes are locked on Waverly, tracking her movements.

Waverly yells and throws the skull. It smashes into a dozen pieces, falling to the snow.

The woman in the cloak screams and moves her hand sharply, sending Waverly into the barn right after the skull.

Nicole is pulling her gun, flicking off the safety, and jumping the porch ledge when a body shifts in front of her her and Wynonna gets a shot off, knocking a glowing blue rod out of the woman’s hand. Henry steps in behind Wynonna. “She’s mine!” he yells. He fires a shot that strikes the woman in the arm.

The man in the suit, the man with the scissors in his ear, the woman with the bloodied eyes, and Stephanie Jones slump to the snowy ground in lifeless heaps.

Nicole slides her gun back into her holster and snaps the leather closed as the pink Lincoln speeds off and up the road past the homestead. Wynonna rushes to Waverly and pulls her to her feet. They huddle close together and Nicole watches Wynonna pull Waverly into her arms with a softness Nicole didn’t know she had. She slinks back through the underbrush and to her car, closing the driver’s door quietly behind her, blowing into her hands to get them warm again.

Her hands ache long after their warm. She grips her phone tightly in her hand and scrolls back through her conversations with Waverly, always one or two words away from texting her just once more, to make sure she’s okay.

She ends up falling asleep in her cruiser and she startles awake when the radio crackles at 7am sharp.

 _“Shots fired at the Earp residence, following up on a call placed last night_ ,” Roy calls over the radio.

Nicole scrambles to pick up her radio. “Hey Roy, it’s Haught. I’m out that way. I’ll follow up.”

“10-4,” he fires back.

The radio goes quiet again and Nicole takes a deep breath. She checks her reflection in the rearview mirror, shoving her hat down over her disheveled braid and hoping it’s passable. She turns on her car and coasts the last hundred yard in through the lychgate, pulling to a stop near fresh tire tracks.

Last night wasn’t a dream. She fought a zombie. Waverly threw a real skull against the barn. Stephanie Jones is really dead.

She’s halfway to the door when it opens and Wynonna comes down the steps, Chrissy Nedley half a step behind her.

“Haught,” Wynonna says, no surprise in her voice. “How’d I know you’d show up.”

Nicole straightens her shoulders and tries to act like she’s not angry at Wynonna, or embarrassed for trusting her and then having that questioned. Instead, she looks at Wynonna through narrowed eyes and shrugs. “How did I know you’d be here following reports of a shoot out.”

Chrissy steps between them and leans heavily against the trunk of Nicole’s car.

Nicole steps into cop-mode, taking Chrissy’s statement down meticulously.

“A stripper,” she comments dryly.

Chrissy flushes a little. “Don’t- don’t tell my dad, okay?”

Nicole puts her hand on Chrissy’s arm and squeezes gently. “I’ll make it work,” she promises. Wynonna drifts back into the house and comes out a few minutes later, a fresh shirt and pair of jeans on. Nicole looks over her shoulder and sees Waverly come out onto the porch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

“Your sister okay?” she asks, managing to keep her voice calm. Nicole makes a concentrated effort to watch Chrissy walk across the snow back to the porch and then look away when Waverly reaches for her.

She can still hear Waverly’s voice in the back of her head; _Well, right now, Officer Haught? You’re annoying me._ She can still hear the sound of Waverly’s neck being snapped like a log splitting.

“Yeah, well, she’s being Waverly,” Wynonna tries to joke.

Nicole doesn’t laugh. “Yeah, well, Chrissy says she scissored a stripper.” Nicole’s eyes stray dangerously close to Waverly’s face and she turns her attention to Wynonna before she lets herself look. “So? Any idea why your homestead was targeted? I mean, besides the fact that it’s yours.”

Wynonna sighs softly. “You know, we should get some breakfast. I could murder a stack of pancakes. Then we’ll talk. Really talk.”

“Okay,” Nicole says flatly. “You’re gonna help me understand why some of these cases are a little too _complex_ for local flatfoots?”

“I’ll do my best,” Wynonna says, her eyes oddly subdued.

“Your boss gonna be okay with that?” Nicole asks.

“My boss isn’t here,” Wynonna fires back.

“Okay.”

“Guess you’re my ride,” Wynonna says, rounding the car.

Nicole waits until she’s well around the back end before she gathers the nerve to look back up to the homestead front porch. Waverly is staring right at her. She blinks, almost looking embarrassed to have been caught staring, and Nicole feels her face flush and she smiles softly. Waverly lifts her hand tentatively, wiggling her fingers in a wave that makes Nicole’s smile widen into a grin. Waverly glances away but looks back, her smile soft.

Nicole feels her stomach twist pleasantly.

The angry Waverly voice in her head, the one that screams _Then don’t_ quiets and is replaced with _You did everything right. You saved my life_.

She slides into her cruiser, sparing once last glance in the sideview mirror; Waverly is still there, watching her leave, that smile still lingering in the corners of her mouth.

Nicole starts the car and nearly jumps when Wynonna pokes her in the side. “Jesus, Wynonna,” she hisses.

“You’re smiling,” Wynonna accuses.

“People can do that, you know.”

Wynonna shakes her head slowly. “That’s a different kind of smile.” She turns and looks through the back windshield to the house but the door is closing and the porch is empty. Wynonna hums thoughtfully and narrows her eyes at Nicole.

“Shut up, Wynonna,” Nicole mutters as she puts the car in drive and pulls out of the homestead driveway.

Wynonna puts her hands up in defense. “I didn’t say anything,” she promises.

Nicole rolls her eyes and turns the radio on.

 

-

A man steps out into the road.

Wynonna throws an arm out across her chest, clotheslining her back into her seat.

A man steps out into the road and the last thing Nicole sees before he rips her from the car is Waverly Earp smiling at her from her front porch, her hand drifting through the air as she finishes waving, the tips of her ears and cheeks red from the morning chill.

Then the world goes black.


	6. vi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter grew wings and took flight. So what this is, is Chapter 6 but only, like, half of it. And the other half will end up being Chapter 7. A special, special thanks to Smurf for keeping me on task.

The world filters in slowly. 

First the light; a blinding glare off the snow hits her right in the eyes. It’s hard to blink and there’s something wet and sticky pooling in the corner of her eye. Then a scraping noise in her ear, a slight thud, a soft whine. She feels it next, the burning in her ribs and the pulsing behind her eyes and the ache in her hand. Her body feels heavy and weighted down and a hand as hot as fire is cutting into the skin of her wrist. 

And then, Waverly Earp’s smiling face. 

She groans, then grunts, as her body hits something hard and sharp. It her hand brushes against something familiar but she can't quite get her mind to figure out what it is. Her face scrapes through the dirt and she starts to panic. 

“Haught,” someone breathes into her ear. “Wake up.”

Nicole tries to turn her head to find the source of the noise but finds a boot instead. It kicks at her jaw and her head snaps back around.

“Keep your hands off her,” the same person growls, just a little further away this time.

Nicole tries to shake the fog out of her head. “Wy-Wynonna?”

There's an audible sigh. “Haught. Jesus. Are you-”

“What happened?” she manages, her voice hoarse. “Where are we?”

Wynonna doesn’t answer but there’s a hand at Nicole’s waist, then her wrist, squeezing. “Just stay with me, Haught.”

“Wynonna, what-”

Her body stops moving. The hand at her wrist grabs her by the jacket and lifts her high into the air. Her vision is blurred but she can see the shape of Wynonna on the ground, legs skewed out. She nearly gags at the sour smell as hot air hits the side of her face. 

“Put her down!” Wynonna shouts.

Nicole tries to twist out of his grip. “Who are you?”

The man frowns at her. “You. You're the wrong kind,” he growls.

She tries to see him, tries to commit his face to her memory but he’s too close for her to make out any details. 

All she can see is Waverly, smiling; Waverly, lifting her hand in a small wave and her lips curving up. 

“The wrong kind!” he shouts again. He drops her and she screams as she lands on her side. The toe of his boot catches the edge of her rib and she screams again, her hands scrambling against the ground to find something, anything to make it stop. 

He picks her up again. Her feet drag against the ground as he pulls her away from Wynonna, back in the direction they had come. She can hear Wynonna screaming her name and she tries to lift her hand and hit this man, or pull a leg back to kick him. But her legs and arms won't cooperate and he drags her farther away from Wynonna. She twists her body back and forth but he still tugs her along like a rag doll. 

“Let her go, you sonofabitch,” Wynonna screams louder.

Nicole opens her mouth to try and shout back, to tell Wynonna to run - run as far and as fast as she can, run to Waverly,  _ get help _ . But one of his hands goes for her throat and they're hot, so hot, that the words die before they form. She chokes as his hand closes tighter and then, just as she's about to pass out, she's airborne. 

She lands in the dirt. Her head strikes the ground hard enough for her vision is explode in white lights. She knows it's Wynonna, feet away, screaming her name. 

All she sees is Waverly. 

 

-

The world filters in quickly. 

Too quickly. She comes to, rolls to her side, and pukes all over Nedley’s shoes. She rolls onto her back to apologize to him. Her mouth opens but she can't get any words out.

“Haught, it’s- Nicole.  _ Nicole _ . It’s okay. Shhh,” he murmurs. “Don't move. Unless you're gonna be sick again. The ambulance is on its way.”

“Wynonna,” she rasps. She tries to sit up. 

He pushes her back down gently, his eyes wide and nervous and his face wet with sweat. His hands at her jacket and they're cold against her collarbone.. “We already know she was with you. That Henry fellow found your cruiser coastin’ down the road without you. He said you two took off after following up on the shooting at the Earp place.”

“I put in a call to Deputy Marshall Dolls,” Diaz says, stepping up next to Nedley. He crouches down and meets Nicole’s eyes. “Sorry, Haught. I tried to find your hat, but all I found was your other boot.”

Nicole tries to sit up again and look down at her feet. “I only have one shoe on?”

Diaz gives her a soft, sad smile and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Not anymore. Now you have two.”

Nicole tries to take a deep breath and the world blacks out again. “He has her,” she repeats to Nedley. 

She can hear sirens in the distance.

“We’ll find her,” Nedley says. “Nicole, I need you to tell me what you remember.”

Her stomach turns again and she rolls, this time onto her bad side, and empties what's left in it. She thinks of  _ heat _ and  _ fear _ and  _ a kick to the ribs _ but all she can do is speak. “He has her,” she repeats. 

She never hears what he says to her, his words lost as the sirens wail over them. Another set of hands grab for her. “Don’t you jostle her, Scooter Andrews,” she hears him snap. 

“Officer Haught, do you know what year it is?”

“2016,” she hisses as his hands brush across her forehead.

“Laceration to the hand and forehead,” Scoot yells up to Drew. 

“Bruised ribs,” Nedley adds. “Sorry, Haught. I didn’t mean to…” He trails off. “You weren’t breathing when when we found you. Diaz checked.”

Nicole’s head spins for a whole other reason. “I wasn’t…”

Nedley is looking at Scoot. “We had to do CPR.” He won’t look down at her. “I don’t know how long she was out for. It took us nearly two minutes to pull her back.”

Scoot’s hands pauses at her chest. “She was dead on arrival, you’re telling me?”

Nicole turns her head and vomits again. She was  _ dead _ when Nedley got here. 

“Any other vomiting?” Scoot asks.

“Twice,” Nedley answers for her. 

Scoot puts a penlight in her eyes. She winces. “Dizzy? Feeling foggy?”

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Woods are spinnin’.”

“Concussion, at least,” Scoot says. “Let’s get you out of here. Have someone take a look at those ribs. Sheriff, can you-”

Nedley grunts and then more hands than she can count are sliding under her, lifting her into the air. Her stomach rolls again but she swallows it down and then she’s sliding into the back of an ambulance, the trees fading around her.

She knows Nedley is still there; his hand grips the sleeve of her jacket as the ambulance hits every bump and dip in the road as if he's trying to keep her in place. She knows he's talking, too. His voice is deep and low and Nicole can hear the rhythm of it, even if she can't make sense of the words. They stick an IV in her arm and take her blood pressure and when Scoot’s hands brush her ribs, she screams. Her vision is blurry but she can still see the glare Nedley shoots him. 

“I’ll be right here,” she hears him shout as the doors to the hospital swing shut, keeping him in the waiting room. 

A doctor she hasn’t met before does an exam, stripping off her uniform and dropping it into a heap on the floor next to her bed. She winces as he steps on her jacket. Her head spins as they dress her hand wound and put tape across the cut on her forehead. He looks at her ribs, pokes and prods them, but sighs and tells her he can’t do anything for them; she’ll need to rest.

He’s gone for three minutes before Nedley is throwing the door open, immediately putting his hand over his eyes. “Sorry, Haught. I didn’t… I’ll get you a shirt.”

“Sir,” she calls out, her throat still aching. “In… On the floor.”

He finds the pile of clothes and hesitantly picks her tanktop out of it, handing it to her and turning around.

“All set,” she whispers.

“Are you?”

Nicole feels her eyes well. She shrugs. “I…” She shakes her head and wills herself to take a slow, steady breath. “Have they found Wynonna?”

Nedley shakes his head. “I’ve got Diaz and the rest of the shift combing the woods where we found you. I talked Deputy Marshall Dolls earlier and his band of misery are out there too.”

“Is Waverly…” Nicole finds herself asking.

Nedley frowns softly but his answer is lost as Dolls comes through the door, his notepad in his hand.

“Officer Haught, I need you to tell me exactly what- Hey!”

Nedley puffs his off his chest and puts his arms out in front of him, bumping Dolls back. “Outside.  _ Now _ ,” he hisses. 

They make it to the doorway before Dolls stops backing down. Nicole watches Nedley position himself in front of door, his arm stretching to the frame in a way that Dolls would have to go through or under him. 

“I know Deputy Earp is still out there, and we’ll continue the search,” Nedley starts.

Nicole can see past his arm to Dolls’s blank expression. She can see Henry just behind that, twisting his hat nervously in his hands. Nicole aches to get up and go ask them about Waverly - is she okay? Does she know Wynonna is missing? 

“But we agreed,” Nedley continues. “My officer-”

“Is the only witness,” Dolls interrupts. “I need to question her before her memory becomes more clouded than it is.”

Nedley sighs. Nicole knows that he knows Dolls is right; she’s better to them now, fresh from the incident, than she would be tomorrow. “I’d feel more comfortable with a greenlight from her doctor.”

“Sheriff,” she calls. “I’m good. Okay? I want to help.”

Nedley shuffles back into the room slowly. Dolls and Henry both perk up a little but Nicole continues to stare at Nedley, willing him to understand that she can do this; she  _ needs _ to do this. 

“Well,” Nedley drags out. “I’ll swing by and make sure that cat of yours is fed.”

Nicole rolls her eyes, giving him a quick smile. “She doesn’t really like men,” she reminds him. 

“Well, who does?” he asks. He turns to leave, but lingers in the door for a second longer, his eyes meeting hers even as Dolls comes into the room and stands at her side, Henry filing in slowly behind Dolls. He nods minutely at her before he slips out the door and Nicole feels something her chest, something warm and light and so unlike the heaviness that’s been sitting there since she woke up in the dirt with Nedley standing over her. 

“Okay,” Dolls starts. “What was the last thing you saw?”

Her eyes stray past Dolls, past Doc, and land on Waverly Earp, sliding against the doorframe. Her arm is in a sling and her eyes are rimmed red from crying and Nicole thinks she’s the most beautiful thing she has ever seen in her entire life.

“Waverly Earp, smiling at me from her front porch,” Nicole breathes out. 

It’s not. It’s not the last thing she saw. She knows the last thing she saw was Wynonna being dragged further and further away. But that last thing on her mind was Waverly Earp and it just slips out. 

Dolls stops flipping through his notepad, giving her a strange look. Waverly’s eyes go just a little soft.

“And, uh, a man stepping out on the highway,” she adds. “Flagging us down.”

Dolls doesn’t look up. “Description?”

Nicole feels a rush of embarrassment. “No, just a blank space after that.”

Dolls huffs and looks away. 

“Until the woods,” Nicole says softly. She hears Waverly make a noise in the back of her throat.

“What happened?” Dolls asks.

“Someone was carrying me. I was blindfolded, I think. Or just really drugged.” Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Waverly swallow and look away. “Next thing I know I’m freezing cold, covered in dirt in a ditch by the side of the road.”

“What about Wynonna?” Dolls asked. “Do you remember anything about Wynonna?”

There’s more embarrassment now, pressing against her sternum. It takes away from the pain in her side, at least, but it builds in her chest instead. “No,” she says, her jaw locked tightly. “I couldn’t see anything.”

“Sight ain’t your only sense, Ms. Haught,” Henry says quietly. He looks at Dolls and Dolls sighs softly before moving out of the way, giving Henry space to step closer to the bed. It lets Nicole see right to the door, right to Waverly. It hurts and makes everything feel better at the same time. “What did he smell like?” Henry asks. “Close your eyes. Take a deep breath in, let the memories come.”

Nicole closes her eyes and frowns. She flashes back to the man in the woods, holding her close to his face, breathing against her cheeks. “Sour. Musty.”

“Like death,” Dolls supplies.

She’s already shaking her head. “No. Spoiled fruit. And gasoline.” Memories flood back in now. “He kicked me.”

“What?” Dolls asks. Waverly straightens up a little in the doorway.

“I couldn’t figure out why my chest was hurting.” Waverly inhales sharply and Nicole hesitates for a second. “He threw me down and he said ‘You’re the wrong kind’.”

Dolls starts to pace. “You’re the wrong kind. You’re the wrong kind. You’re the wrong kind. Uh… Serial killers. They, um, often have a type of victim that they prefer.”

Nicole knows this; she learned all about preference and victimology in the academy. The words, the phrasing, it hadn’t clicked in her head back in the words. She hadn’t put it together and she should have. Joyce Arbour - she had looked like Wynonna. She had even said it out loud. And she knows she looks nothing like Wynonna; she knows she was a casualty, caught up in a game she wasn’t meant to play. She knows she escaped - was thrown away - on a technicality, and that Wynonna stayed.

“And Wynonna?” Waverly asks.

Waverly has never attended a police academy but Nicole knows that she already knows the answer to the question she’s asking. 

“Must be exactly what Jack’s looking for,” Dolls says.

Nicole feels her eyes well with tears and she tries to swallow the lump in her throat. “Waverly, I’m so sorry,” she says. Her hands ache to reach out and grab Waverly, to smooth back the one flyaway hair that escaped from her braid. She wants to pull her in and hold her close and tell Waverly the truth - that she would trade places with Wynonna in a heartbeat if that meant Waverly wouldn’t be standing in the doorway with tears in her eyes. 

“No, it’s fine,” Waverly lies. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Her face crumples and she turns away from Nicole, back into the hallway.

Nicole takes a deep breath and manages to hold her own tears until Henry tips his hat and excuses himself, Dolls on his heels with a promise to stop by if he has any more questions for her. When the door clicks shut she lets them go. She takes deep, heaving breaths that make it feel like her body is splitting wide open with each exhale. She shapes her good hand into a fist and slams it against the metal rail of the bed, barely feeling the pain reverberate up her arm.

She let Waverly down. She’s spent so much time trying to save Waverly, to keep her safe. And she let Wynonna be taken; she let Waverly be the last one, all alone. Again. 

She falls into a fitful sleep and dreams of Waverly in the woods, yelling at her not to leave Wynonna behind. 

 

-

The doctor keeps her in the hospital for three days.  _ Death is no joke _ , he tells her.

Nicole thinks of Waverly.

Her phone is quiet again, no messages from Waverly or news from Deputy Marshall Dolls. Her momma calls her, threatens to come down to Purgatory and drag her back home and shackle her to a bed, but she manages to calm her momma down and promises she’s fine, she’s  _ fine _ , and she’ll still come home for Christmas.

She doesn’t tell her momma that Nedley was ready to pronounce her dead, that he put two fingers to her neck and counted to forty-seven before she came awake, gasping for air. She figures telling her momma something like that will get her a one-way ticket back home. 

The second night in a hospital bed, Nedley slips in to tell her they found Wynonna - she’s banged up and she’s bruised, but she’s alive. A pressure in Nicole’s chest, one she hadn’t realized was there, releases slowly. She fumbles for her phone with her left hand, her right still achy and healing, and opens a new message. 

**Nicole** _[23:42:09]: I’m glad Wynonna made it home_

_ No thanks to me _ , she thinks to herself.

“That cat of yours sure is a menace,” Nedley mutters.

Nicole looks up, surprised that he’s still there. “Like I said, she’s not a fan of men.”

Nedley holds up his hand, a large scratch across the back of it. “I gathered.”

Nicole winces. “I’m sorry, sir. She would have been-”

“Haught,” he says sharply. He rubs wearily at his face and she can tell he’s been up for a while, probably joining the search for Wynonna. “I don’t… I’m not…”

“Sir,” she tries to interrupt.

He holds out a hand to stop her. “Now wait a minute. Let me just get this out. When we got the call that your cruiser was out there by itself and there was blood all over the front seats… I’ve got good men working for me.  _ Some _ good men,” he amends. “Guys like Diaz and Patterson. They’re good at this job, but it’s a job and they work their shifts and they go home and they live their lives. And I’ve got guys who take up space, like Pine. Now, he has potential to be a good guy, but he throws it all away on friends and booze.” He looks past Nicole at the machines monitoring her heart rate and her blood pressure and her oxygen levels. “I don’t have anyone like you, though. This is more than a job for you.”

“It’s my life,” Nicole admits.

Nedley pauses for a moment. “I know that. What I’m trying to say, Haught, is that… I need you to be careful. Okay? Wynonna told me how you tried to fight your attacker. She said you were brave. But I need you to try and be more careful.”

“Sir, I-”

“That’s all I got to say about it,” he finishes. His nods his head sharply. “Right. Now, I can bring you some case files, if you’re feeling like you’ve got some time. I called your guy from Fish and Game and told him you were working on your angle but you were injured on the job. He said to give him a call when you’re back to active duty.”

“About that. Sir, I-”

“And it won’t be for a few days, so don’t try to argue with me about it or sweet talk that doctor of yours into signing off on something,” Nedley warns. 

Nicole feels her face flush slightly. “I wouldn’t-” She stops when she sees Nedley’s face. “Okay. I won’t.”

He nods again. “Good. I’ll have Linda stop by with your files. She’s, uh, dying to see you.” He makes a face. “I wasn’t tryin’ to be funny.”

“I didn’t think you were, sir,” Nicole says kindly. 

He leaves with a tip of his hat and Nicole lets her eyes close for a moment, taking in a slow breath that she feels in every bruise.

“I can come back,” someone says softly.

Nicole startles, her hand reaching for a gun that isn’t at her side. 

Waverly steps closely quickly, her hands up in front of her and her eyes soft. “No, no. It’s just me. It’s just me.” She rests a hand on Nicole’s bed, her fingertips barely brushing against the gauze covering Nicole’s hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” Nicole says, taking shuddering breaths.

Waverly shakes her head. “I should have knocked. I just saw Nedley leave and I thought… You looked peaceful.”

Nicole gives her a humorless smile. “Peaceful,” she repeats. “Sure.”

Waverly pulls her hand back. “Not sleeping?”

Nicole shrugs. “I’m tired. So eventually, yeah. I fall asleep. But…” She shrugs again. 

“Nightmares?” Waverly asks quietly, her gaze sweeping across the hospital room.

“Something like that.”

“I got your text,” Waverly says, abruptly changing the subject.

Nicole sits up a little. “How is she?”

“She’s…” Waverly’s lips twitch. “She’s Wynonna. She’s solving it with booze. It’s practically an Earp family tradition at this point.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save her,” Nicole says quietly. The guilt has been eating away at her; knowing she was the last person to see Wynonna, knowing she was an arm’s length away and unable to do anything.

Waverly pulls at the chair at the end of the bed, tugging it until it’s on Nicole’s side. She sits down heavily in it, pushing flyaway hairs out of her eyes and stares at Nicole for a long moment before she reaches out and holds Nicole’s injured hand between her own. “Deputy Marshall Dolls… He told me that, uh, he told me you died. That Nedley and Diaz had to do CPR on you and bring you back to life.” 

Nicole is so transfixed on Waverly’s thumb tracing indescribable patterns on the gauze covering the wide gash across her palm that it takes her a moment to process what Waverly is saying to her. She doesn’t look up at Waverly, but up and over her shoulder, to the quiet activity in the hallway.

“He said you were just lying on the side of the road, that he almost drove right past you the first time,” Waverly says, her voice soft. “You… You were  _ dead _ .”

“I’m still here,” Nicole says, her voice just as quiet. 

“You did save Wynonna,” Waverly continues. “The details you gave Dolls and Henry, they lead right to Wynonna.”

“Yeah?” Nicole asks shyly.

Waverly gives her a small smile. “Yeah,” she echoes. “Without you, we might not have… We might-”

“No, no,” Nicole says, ignoring every burning ache in her body to reach over with her good hand and swipe clumsily at Waverly’s cheeks. “She’s safe. She’s okay.” Her thumb drifts and brushes against Waverly’s neck, over a small, thin, white line that remains there. She wipes at the corner of Waverly’s eye with her fingers. “She wouldn’t leave you that easily.”

Waverly bites at her bottom lip and looks away, her cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry. You almost  _ died _ and I’m crying all over you about my sister.”

Nicole shrugs easily. “I get what she means to you.”

Waverly’s eyes are suddenly dry, a glint in them that Nicole hasn’t seen before. “You mean something, too,” she admits quietly.

One of the machines next to her bed starts to beep erratically. Nicole jumps slightly, her hand slipping off of Waverly’s face. Waverly’s hands tighten around hers, almost to the point of pain, but it’s clouded by Nicole’s panic, trying to figure out what machine is going off. 

A nurse comes bustling through the door and rounds the bed without a pause, punching a few buttons on the monitor. She gives Nicole a pointed look. “Heart rate. Try to keep it down, Officer. Your body can only handle so much excitement.”

Nicole feels her face flush instantly. Waverly’s hands fall away and Nicole immediately pulls her own hand into her lap, embarrassed. She glares at the monitors and prays that exhaustion catches her at this exact moment and pulls her so deep into sleep that she wakes up and this moment is a distant, distant memory. She nods at the nurse and doesn’t watch her leave and close the door behind her. She keeps her eyes on her hands in her lap, mortified. 

After a few minutes, she feels a feather-light touch against her leg through the blankets she’s using and finally looks up, meeting Waverly’s eyes. 

“Nicole, I-”

“Well, Jesus, girl,” Linda crows as she unceremoniously pushes through the door. “If you wanted to-”

Nicole’s head snaps up so quickly she gets dizzy. The legs of the chair scrape against the floor as Waverly pushes back quickly, standing up.

Linda pauses in the doorway, eyes narrowed as they go back and forth between Nicole and Waverly. “Am I interruptin’ something?”

Nicole wants to nod her head but the room is spinning. Waverly shakes her head instead. “Nope,” she says, popping the ‘p’ sound. “I was just, uh, leaving.”

“You were?” Linda asks.

“You were?” Nicole echoes.

Waverly backs up a few feet. She wrings her hands in front of her and nods. “Yeah, yes. I’ve got a shift and I need to change and I can just, you can just-” She inhales sharply. “Text me, Nicole. And we can… talk.” She turns on her heel and pushes through the door.

Nicole looks back at Linda slowly, afraid to meet her eyes.

“She broke up with Champ, you know,” Linda says casually, dropping a stack of files onto Nicole’s lap.

Nicole’s heart monitor beeps a warning at her. “She did?”

Linda stares at her for a moment before rolling her eyes and taking Waverly’s abandoned seat. “Yes, you stupid girl,” Linda scolds. “Now I’m sure your momma and Nedley have already read you the riot act, but let  _ me _ tell you exactly why you shouldn’t have run off half-cocked with Wynonna Earp.”

Linda talks for an hour and Nicole doesn’t hear a single word she says.

 

-

Her eyes are heavy with sleep and her neck is stiff from reading hunched over her stack of files in her hospital bed. She’s about to give up on going over her Fish and Game poaching notes. She’s exhausted and her side aches every time she turns a page and she can’t even use her right hand to make additional notes. She’s closing the open folder when an interview with Bobby Spade catches her eye.

_ Suspect reported that he filed multiple police reports to local Purgatory Sheriff’s Department Officers but was never contacted for follow-up. He provided September 14th as a potential date in which there was no follow-up. _

Nicole flips back through her notes, finding the table she created of reports Bobby Spade filed. She scans the page quickly, too quickly, and has to go back and read it again. Before the kidnapping, before the dead bodies at the Earp homestead, she had made a list of times Bobby Spade had called to report a break-in at his butcher shop. She runs a finger down the page until she finds September 14.

_ 06:43am - A caller, identified as Robert Spade, 43, reported a break-in at Spade’s Butcher Shop on Main Street. Police responded and inventoried the scene. A window in the rear of the building had been broken. Mr. Spade reported that several cow carcuses were missing from the walk-in freezer on the property.  _

Nicole puts the report down and opens another folder, turning pages as quickly as she can with her left hand. She finds the case notes for the September 14 break-in but Bobby was right - there’s no follow-up notes. There’s initial report notes and some observations Nicole can barely read. She scans through the report and finds the signature at the bottom and rolls her eyes.  _ Of course Pine never followed up _ , she thinks to herself.  _ That explains the horrible handwriting too _ .

Nicole puts the file down in a pile on its own. She has files laid out in every direction, piles everywhere. She has mental labels on all of them, an order to the chaos. This one she decides she’s going to call ‘No Follow Up’. She picks up her table again and frowns. Spade’s Butcher Shop had been broken into 20 times in four years. A couple of times in 2012, once in 2013, and four times in 2015. But in 2016, there’s been 13 break-ins in 10 months. Nothing has come over the wire since Bobby’s brother Chris took over in late October, but Nicole suspects that’s because he either doesn’t know about the poaching ring or he put a stop to it. 

She pulls another file off her ‘September Reports’ pile and finds the report Bobby filed on September 25, a few weeks before she responded to his twentieth break-in. 

_ 06:21am - A caller, identified as Robert Spade, 43, reported a break-in at Spade’s Butcher Shop on Main Street. Police responded. Scene inventoried. Mr. Spade reported mutliple cow carcsuses and roughly 20 cuts of meat to be missing from the walk-in freezer on the property. There were no signs of forced entry. Mr. Spade believes a window could have been left open in the rear of the building.  _

The case notes for the September 25 are just as threadbare as September 14. She doesn’t read them. She goes to the bottom of the single page and checks the signature. Pine.  _ Again _ .

She reaches for her phone, opens the notes app, and hits the talk-to-text button.

“Dates with no follow-up,” she says into the phone. It beeps and the words appear on the screen. She hits the enter button and then adds more. “September 14, Pine on scene. September 25, Pine on scene.”

She scans the table again. One break-in in January, none in February, one a piece in March and April. There was nothing in May, but June had one, July had three, August had two, September had three, and the last break-in was in October. She takes October off the list immediately; she was the responding officer. She starts with January 9.

_ 05:34am - A caller, identified as Robert Spade, 43, reported a break-in at Spade’s Butcher Shop on Main Street. Police responded. Mr. Spade reported at least 15 pounds of meat had been taken from his walk-in freezer. The locks on a door in the rear of the property had been compromised upon inspection.  _

Nicole finds the case notes for the break-in and frowns: no follow-up listed and Pine signed on the bottom of the page next to ‘reporting officer’. She adds the date to her note on her phone.

She checks March - Augustine is listed as the reporting officer and the notes state that on March 4, two days after the break-in, he ‘ _ followed up with Mr. Spade to confirm some facts regarding missing product, advised placement of a new security system _ .’ Another note on March 10 states that he ‘ _ checked on the security system _ ’ at Spade’s and left his card for Bobby.

April is Pine again. The case note only states the initial call to dispatch and no follow-up information. He didn’t even write down what had been reported as missing. She adds it to her note.

The June break-in, on June 21, is Pine. He at least took down what was missing this time, but didn’t mention anything about a security system malfunctioning or how the intruders got into the building. She adds the date to her list. Five break-ins so far, including the two in September.

Pine is the reporting officer for two out of the three July break-ins, July 7 and 28. Both times, there’s nothing about following up or any notes to fill in the holes in the initial call. She tacks those onto her note. On July 13, Diaz was the officer on-scene and his report is immaculate. His notes are sound and concise and he adds, at the bottom, that he ‘ _ checked to assess the functionality of the security system, deemed broken. Advised Mr. Spade to replace _ .’

In August there are two break-ins. On August 17, Diaz is the reporting officer and he makes a note that ‘ _ Mr. Spade replaced broken security system, but it appeared to be damaged before or during break-in _ ’. On August 3, Pine is listed, but he barely scribbled down what Nicole assumes is the call. He wrote ‘ _ 05:56am - Spade, break-in, meat gone’ _ and nothing else. 

Diaz responded to the nineteenth break in, took his notes, noted a lack of security measures, added that Mr. Spade was ‘ _ tired of this _ ’ and went back a few days later to put a new lock on the door.

The last break-in, on October 11, is the one Nicole reported to. 

She looks at the list on her phone and she curses as a picture comes together.

She tries to think of reasons why Pine wouldn’t follow-up on an incident, especially a recurring one. Nedley’s voice echoes in her head.  _ Pine. He has the potential to be a good guy, but he throws it all away on his friends and booze _ , Nedley had said. 

Then she remembers the day she arrested Bobby. “ _ You know who’s stealing from you, _ ” she had said. 

Bobby had looked at her with hard eyes.  “ _ Those damn York boys _ ,” he had said. “ _ That Kyle one, he thinks he’s invincible. _ ”

“Even if he throws it away, he wouldn’t cover up a crime for his friends,” she says to herself. She frowns. “Would he?”

She goes through the files in front of her and frowns again when she realizes she’s missing the file about the York brothers. It has all of the information she’s put together on them, from birth to Bobby’s accusation that they were the ones stealing from him. 

She opens her messenger app and pulls up her conversation with Waverly.

**Nicole** _[11:12:09]: Are you at the station?_

**Nicole** _ [11:12:15] If you are, can you do me a favor? _

Her phone beeps almost instantly. 

**Waverly** _ [11:12:45]: Anything _

**Nicole** _[11:13:06]: In Linda’s drawer at the front counter, there’s a small key on a Chicago keychain. It goes to the top drawer of my desk. I left a few files in there. Do you think you have some time to run them to me?_

She chews on her thumbnail while she waits for a response. Waverly had texted her last night, to wish her sweet dreams, but Nicole had been passed out - worn down from the pain and the medications and her embarrassment and Linda talking. By the time she read the message, nearly 8 hours later, she was just about to open her case notes and she had just forgotten again. 

**Waverly** _[11:16:23]_ _Linda won’t let me into your desk._

Nicole sighs and opens her keypad, typing in the number to the station. Linda picks up on the first ring, her voice sugar-sweet. “Purgatory Sheriff’s Department,” she sings.

“Linda, let Waverly into my desk.”

Linda makes a noise over the phone. “Oh, I see. I’m just supposed to let a  _ civilian _ go into the desk of an Officer like it ain’t no big deal?”

Nicole sighs. “Linda.”

“Don’t ‘Linda’ me, girl,” Linda fires back. “Now, you might be Nedley’s favorite, but there are rules. And you gotta follow them, same as everyone else.”

Nicole is quiet for a moment before she lowers her voice slightly. “Linda, please? I’m trying to solve a case and I don’t have all the notes I need and I’d get out of this bed myself, but the doctor won’t let me and I’m-”

“Okay, okay,” Linda cuts her off. She huffs into the phone. “You’re really playing up this injury thing, young lady.”

“Linda,” Nicole says, smiling. “I  _ died _ .”

She can just picture Linda on the other end of the phone, rolling her eyes. “Fine. But this is the first  _ and the last _ time this happens. Understand?”

“Understand,” she echoes. 

She hears Linda speaking to someone else. “You have two seconds to get in that desk and gimme that key back.”

Nicole hangs up, a smile still on her face. Her phone goes off, a message coming through.

**Waverly** _[11:18:54]: Got the file. I can be there in ten?_

**Nicole** _ [11:19:22]: Don’t rush. I’m not going anywhere _

She winces at her bad joke and bites the inside of her cheek to ground herself. She starts to wriggle around, trying to sit up a little taller without dumping her files off the bed. She leans a little too far to the right, though, and one of slides right off her knee and flutters to the floor, the contents spilling out. “ _ Shit _ ,” she hisses. Forgetting it for a moment, she tries to smooth her hair down a little and eventually gives up. It’s unwashed and tangled and her left hand is the most useless body part she’s ever had. Including the appendix she had out when she was 11. 

There’s a soft knock on the door and then Waverly is poking her head into the room, a small smile on her face. “Hey,” she says quietly.

“Hey,” Nicole breathes out, all thoughts of her dirty hair gone.

Waverly holds the file out in front of her as she comes into the room. “I got the goods.”

_ Yes, you do _ , Nicole thinks. Out loud, she only manages to choke.

Waverly quickens her steps, hitting Nicole gently on the back until she can catch her breath. “Sorry,” she apologizes. “I’ll have to work on my entrances.”

Nicole feels her face flush. “It was a good entrance.”

Waverly tips her head to the side and her smile makes Nicole’s heart  _ thump _ . She takes a deep breath and wills herself to calm down so she doesn’t set off her monitors again.

“The file,” Nicole says.

Waverly looks down at her hand. “Oh.  _ Oh _ . Right. Here.” She thrusts it in Nicole’s face.

Nicole flinches a little. “I really appreciate it.”

Waverly waves her off. “It’s totally fine. I was just looking at something for Dolls and my brain was starting to confuse Latin with Ancient Sumerian and none of the words were making sense and-” She stops quickly and looks away. “And you don’t want to hear about that.”

Nicole frowns. “Why wouldn’t I want to hear about that?”

Waverly gives her a quick, dismissive smile. “Nobody ever does.”

Nicole reaches across her body with her left hand and rests it gently on Waverly’s. “I do.”

Waverly stares at their hands for a second before she looks back up, her smile softer and more genuine. 

Nicole clears her throat and notices the file she dropped earlier on the floor. She frowns at it and sighs. “Could you…” She trails off and nods towards the floor. “I dropped that.”

“Of course,” Waverly chirps. She pulls her hand out from under Nicole’s and picks up all the loose, scattered pages, tucking them into the folder. “I’m not looking, I swear.”

“It’s okay if you do,” Nicole says, even though, technically, it’s not. She starts to tuck the folder on the other side of her body but pauses, looking between it and Waverly. “Actually, could I ask you a question?”

Waverly sinks down into the chair, tucking her legs under her body. Nicole’s stomach flops at the idea of sitting on the couch with Waverly, a movie on the TV, her legs tucked under her body and her toes under Nicole’s thighs to keep warm. She shakes her head of the mental picture it’s forming and tries to focus on her job instead. 

“How well do you know Officer Pine?” she asks.

Waverly’s mouth twitches. “Kevin?”

Nicole grins a little. “Not a fan?”

“If you’re into that sort of thing,” Waverly says, shrugging one shoulder.

“Into what? Jerks?”

“Boy-men,” Waverly says, meeting Nicole’s eyes.

Nicole swallows heavily. “Oh,” she manages.

Waverly looks away. “Anyway, Kevin Pine. He’s… the same age as Wynonna? Played for the hockey team. They sucked. Kind of a shitticket? He hangs out with Kyle and Pete and sometimes Champ. They’ve all been friends since five or six, whenever Initiation-level hockey starts. Even though Kyle is, like, way older than them. And Champ is way younger, but he always kind of hung around. Champ called them… What did he call them?” She frowns. “I think he once called them blood brothers. They’d do anything for each other. He’s… I don’t know. A typical guy?”

Nicole rolls her eyes and goes to scratch at the back of her neck before she remembers the gauze on her hand. It’s two layers less than yesterday but it still gets in the way. She growls softly and uses her left hand instead. She glances at Waverly and frowns a little when she sees Waverly fighting a smile. “What?”

“Do you have an itch?” Waverly asks, her voice light.

Nicole immediately drops her hand. “No.” She tries to refocus. “Pine. Is he, I don’t know. Trustworthy?”

Waverly’s eyes narrow. “What’re you really asking me, Nicole?”

The way  _ Nicole _ falls from Waverly’s mouth causes Nicole’s hand to twitch just enough that she drops the folder she’s holding and watches in horror as it spills to the floor again. Waverly gives her a confused look but picks the pages up slowly, her eyes lingering on the reports just barely. She hands them back to Nicole with an indescribable look on her face.

“What are you asking me?” Waverly repeats.

Nicole pauses for a moment before she looks back at Waverly. “I…” She trails off. “I just don’t know him well. That’s all.”

Waverly doesn’t buy it; Nicole can tell she doesn’t buy that excuse at all. But Waverly is also too smart to push and Nicole is too stubborn to give. So Waverly stares at her for a moment and then gives the smallest of sighs before she pats Nicole on the leg, over her blankets. “Okay,” she says softly. She opens her mouth to say something more when her phone beeps obnoxiously. She fishes it out of her pocket and sighs, heavier this time. “Wynonna,” she offers as a an explanation.

Nicole immediately straightens up. “Go. Go.”

Waverly looks torn.

“Seriously,” Nicole pushes. “Go ahead. You can text me later. We still… We still need to talk?”

Waverly nods gratefully. “Yes, we do.” She hesitates but leans in swiftly, pressing her lips to Nicole’s cheek, near her ear, and then steps back just as quickly. “Stay safe.”

“Stuck in a hospital bed,” Nicole says. Her words get lost in the opening and closing of the door and then Nicole is alone again. “Okay, cool,” she says out loud to herself. She flips open her York Brothers file and reads through it, just to refresh her memory. She had spent some time in town over the last few weeks building a profile on the brothers, trying to figure out how they’re involved in the poaching ring. She believes Bobby Spade when he says they're involved; she just has to figure out how.

It’s not until she reads Bobby’s full interview with Fish and Game that things start to make sense. She’s read it before, but this time, with complete focus on the interview and no distractions and no Nedley telling her to go home, she takes in every single word. By the time she’s done, she’s leaning back against the pillows, trying to wrap her head around exactly what she’s reading.

_ Interviewer: “Mr. Spade, you stated in a previous interview-” _

_ Robert Spade: “Interrogation.” _

_ Interviewer: “Mr. Spade, you’ve previously stated that you know who is stealing from your walk-in freezer.” _

_ Robert Spade: “Yes. Those damn York boys. Kyle and Pete. They’ve been running the show in Purgatory.” _

_ Interviewer: “Mr. Spade, have you made these accusations to any officers at the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department?” _

_ Robert Spade: “A few times. A couple of times I told that Pine guy, the one whose all buddy-buddy with those good for nothin’ sonsofa-” _

_ Interviewer: “Are there any other officers you mentioned your suspicions to?” _

_ Robert Spade: “Yeah, that lady cop.” _

_ Interviewer: “Lady cop?” _

_ Robert Spade: “She’s new to Purgatory. Redhead. Isn’t afraid of the Yorks. Jimmy at the gas station told me she threatened to fine Kyle for littering.” _

Nicole growls softly. “Lady cop. I’ll show him what a ‘lady cop’ can do.”

_ Interviewer: “Mr. Spade, I have put a list of dates in front of you. Those dates are the corresponding dates that you reported a break-in at your butcher shop. Can you identify the dates in which you accused the York Brothers of stealing from your freezer?” _

_ Robert Spade: “This one. These two. This-” _

_ Interviewer: “Out loud, please. For the transcript.” _

_ Robert Spade: “January 9, June 21, July 28, August 3, and September 14.” _

_ Interviewer: “And you told Officer Haught on October 11.” _

_ Robert Spade: “Is that the lady cop? Then yeah.” _

Nicole rechecks her ‘No-Follow Up’ pile; every date Bobby mentioned, beside October 11, Pine was the responding officer. Nicole quickly flips open her York file and frowns: On two occasions, August 3 and September 14, Kyle and Pete were seen by multiple witnesses talking to Pine - in Shorty’s and at the hardware store and walking down Main Street. 

_ But why would… oh. _ Nicole curses again.

She sits on what she knows for the next two days. The doctor discharges her and Nedley comes by in her cruiser, freshly washed and detailed, not a speck of blood anywhere. He lets her get into the passenger seat all by herself, throwing her bag into the back and pretending he doesn’t notice her struggling with how to bend at the right angle to get into the seat. She’s grateful for him turning the radio up when she finally slides in and pants, her side raging. 

“Sir,” she says as he pulls up at her apartment.

“I ain’t going anywhere near that cat,” he says quickly.

Nicole grins. “No, sir. I just wanted to talk to you about the Fish and Game task force I’m working on the side?”

Nedley puts the car in park and turns as much as he can. “Okay.”

“Sir,” she says carefully. “I’m not sure how to really explain this, but, I think we have an inside man problem.”

She tells him everything she knows: Bobby Spade accused Kyle and Pete York of stealing from him; Bobby Spade said he’s voiced that a few times; Pine took most of the reports, but nothing is mentioned in his case notes; Pine never followed up on anything; Pine never took any responding notes; Pine never called Kyle and Pete in for questioning. By the time she’s finished, Nedley’s face is red and his hands are clenched around the steering wheel.

“So you’re tellin’ me that Kyle and Pete York, two of the stupidest cowboys in Purgatory, are not only running a poaching ring but they’re getting their trail cleaned up by the worst cop on my force,” Nedley spits out after a few minutes of fuming silence.

“Yes, sir,” Nicole murmurs.

“Well. Shit,” Nedley curses.

Nicole’s head snaps up. “You… You believe me?”

Nedley blinks at her. “You’re the best officer I’ve got, Haught. Of course I believe you. You wouldn’t throw an accusation out there just for laughs, wouldya?”

“No, sir,” Nicole says quickly, shaking her head viciously.

Nedley nods sharply. “Okay then. So what’re you going to do about it?”

“Me, sir?”

“This is your case, Haught,” he reminds her.

“Right. Right.” She sighs and presses the palm of her good hand to her forehead. “Sir?”

“Haught?”

“I wanna nail his ass to the wall.”


	7. vii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're, like, halfway there? The original chapter 6 ended up being waaaaaaay too long so here is Chapter 7, the second half of six. Enjoy.

Pine pulls the coffee pot out of the machine just as Nicole reaches for it. She swallows the urge to turn and punch him in the face and waits instead, taking the pot from his hand as he tries to put it back.

“So you’re back,” he says around his coffee mug.

Nicole fills hers slowly. “Yes,” she says.

“Heard you died out there.”

Linda turns and narrows her eyes at the back of Pine’s head. Nicole shakes her head, hoping Linda gets the message to let it go.

“Lucky you, I came back to life,” she tells him, her voice flat. “Unfinished business.”

Pine eyes her warily but takes his coffee back to his desk and sits down.

Nicole lifts her coffee cup to her mouth but it never gets there. Linda tapping her pen against the counter slows to a dull pulse. She watches herself sitting at her desk, stealing glances at Pine.

“ _ Listen _ ,” he’s saying. “ _ I just think that you should probably leave it alone _ .” He lifts his coffee to his mouth and takes a sip. He misses and coffee splashes against his uniform shirt and his khakis. “ _ Shit!” _

Linda’s pen sounds like rapid gunfire as Nicole blinks and time comes back to her. She keeps her grin to herself and sips at her coffee as she sits down. She logs into her computer and taps away idly, her eyes straying to Pine every other minute. She should be working on her report for the kidnapping but every time she sits down to look at it, her entire body shakes and she has to put it away. Nedley had told her to take her time writing it; he trusted her to remember enough to be able to form a coherent report. 

She glances at Nedley’s office and sighs at the shades pulled shut. She had tried to talk to Nedley a second time about how to get Pine alone, how to get him to confess, but he had told her she was in charge of this one and she would have to do it on her own.

“Messages from the week,” Linda huffs as she drops a stack of ‘While You Were Away’ notes on Nicole’s desk. “Popular lady.”

Pine snickers into his coffee cup. Linda’s head snaps around and he straightens up.

Nicole flips through the pile idly. There’s a few messages from some folks in town, calling about issues she’s responded to. There’s a message from the Fish and Game agent with Nedley’s scrawl along the bottom that says something like,  _ Called back. Let ‘em know _ . At the very bottom of the stack, there’s a message in handwriting Nicole doesn’t recognize at first, until she reads Waverly’s signature at the bottom. 

“ _ If you’re reading this, you’re obviously back at work. I’m really, really glad you’re okay” _ it says, with a smiley face next to a heart.

Nicole looks around the station and slips that last message into her top desk drawer, right on top of her York file. As she closes the drawer, she nods to herself. 

Today is the day. 

She’s going to take Pine down. 

She has a four point plan in mind: 

  * First she’ll ask questions about the Yorks. 
  * Then she’ll leave her file hanging around on the edge of her desk, ‘YORK’ written across it in big, bold letters. 
  * After she catches him peeking at it - she knows he won’t be able to resist - she’ll do surveillance on him around until he leads her to the Yorks. Nedley’s already approved her taking the time to do it and she can just tell everyone at the station her recovery is going to take longer than she thought. 
  * She’ll catch him on tape, tell him she knows what he’s doing, and give him two choices: to turn on them or go down alongside them.



Nicole takes another look at Pine and rolls her eyes when she sees him wiping his mouth on his uniform sleeve. She leans back in her seat, ignoring the sharp pain in her side. Her hand is gauze-free now but there’s still a wide Band-Aid across her palm. She wraps that hand around a coffee mug and sips from it, swiveling her chair around until she’s facing Pine’s desk.

He looks up at her quickly, then down at his phone, and then back up at her, frowning. “You need something?”

Nicole shrugs, taking another slow sip from her cup. She gives him a smile and it feels so fake. Her cheeks ache. “Hey,” she says, leaning forward until her feet are flat against the floor. She rests her coffee mug on her desk. “You’ve known Kyle and Pete York for a while, right?”

Pine shrugs. “I guess? My whole life. Pete and I were in school together.”

Nicole nods. “Kyle is older."

“By a few years,” Pine says slowly.

“And Champ, too.”

“He’s a little younger than me, but yeah.”

Nicole nods again and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “So you’d say you’re best friends with the Yorks, then.”

Pine tips his head to one side and frowns. “Why do you want to know?”

Nicole shrugs. “Just askin’.”

Pine’s eyes narrow. “What’re you asking for?”

“I can’t make conversation?” Nicole stares back at him, challenging him.

Pine backs down first. He gives her a tight-lipped smile and shrugs. “Sure you can.”

Nicole smiles widely. “Good. So, Pete. He’s a decent guy, huh?”

“Give you the shirt off his back,” Pine says warily.

“Kyle, though,” Nicole says quickly.

Pine’s mouth twitches slightly. Nicole files that away for later. “What about Kyle?”

“Well, I mean, he’s kind of a dick, amirite?”

Pine’s nostrils flare and his lips press thinly together. “Where’d you get that from?”

“He stole a candy bar from a teenager,” Nicole says slowly, as if she’s talking to a kid. “That’s a different kind of person, doin’ something like that.” She watches the way Pine’s shoulders start to tense and pushes just a little more. “Like, he has to have a record, right?” She makes a show of turning to her computer and typing into the computer’s search bar. She’s just pressing keys, but out of the corner of her eye she can see him pull at his already-loose collar.

She knows Kyle York has a record. His juvenile record is sealed but there’s been a few misdemeanors since he turned 18. 

“Guys like that always have records,” she says casually.

Pine’s chair creaks as he shifts in it. “What’re you asking for?” he asks again.

Nicole shrugs. “I’ve got a case.”

“Case?” Pine repeats, his voice breaking on the word. “What case? I don’t know anything about a case.”

Nicole turns in her seat slowly, meeting Pine’s eyes and holding his gaze. “Am I supposed to be tellin’ you every time I get a case?”

“No, but I’m supposed to get a notification every time Kyle or Pete get put into the-” He stops abruptly. He reaches for his coffee and shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

Nicole leans forward, her eyes softer now. “You get a notification when?”

He’s already shaking his head before she finished asking the question. “Listen,” he says.. “I just think that you should probably leave it alone.” He lifts his coffee to his mouth and takes a sip. He misses and coffee splashes against his uniform shirt and his khakis. “ _ Shit _ !” He stands quickly, wiping at his pants uselessly. He drops his empty coffee cup on his desk, sliding his hand over his phone, and heads for the locker room, pulling at his shirt to keep it away from his skin.

Nicole waits exactly five seconds before she stands and nods at Linda, following him. She winds through the bullpen and pauses at the locker room door for a moment, listening. It’s quiet so she pushes the door slowly, inching it open wide enough to slide her body in sideways.

“I don’t care, Pete. Put Kyle on the phone,” she can hear Pine whispering loudly.

Nicole presses herself against a set of lockers near the door and tries to control her breathing. She fishes her phone out of her pocket and unlocks it, finding the recorder app and presses the red button to start recording. She holds the phone out in front of her a little, hoping to catch as much as she can.

“Pete, shut up about it. I don’t care if he’s on the floor. Get him.  _ Now _ .” 

Nicole can hear Pine’s boots against the tiled floor.  _ Clack, clack, clack,  _ pause _ , squeak, clack, clack, clack _ . 

“ _ Christ _ , Kyle. We got a big problem,” Pine says after a minute of pacing. 

Nicole takes a deep breath and reminds herself that she needs to wait; that Pine telling Kyle they have a ‘big problem’ doesn’t mean anything related to her case. She can feel her whole body humming in anticipation and she wants to bounce on the tips of her toes, to relieve some of the anxiety building in her, but she can’t give herself away yet. She puts out a silent prayer that no one walks into the room right now.

“Haught came back to work today and she’s all over me asking me- No, she’s not  _ interested _ in me,” Pine snarls. “She’s into women, I think? It doesn’t matter! Listen to me!”

There’s another pause and Nicole exhales slowly through her nose. 

“She came back to work and she’s askin’ me all these questions about you,” Pine finally says. “She’s talkin’ about your record and looking at you in the system. You know she’s the one who arrested Bobby Spade, right?”

Nicole inches a littler closer. She peers around the corner into the large open space surrounded by three walls of lockers. Pine is pacing between two benches.

“No, I don’t know what Bobby told her. But I do know that Fish and Game called here a few times when Haught was in the hospital.” Pine huffs. “They know what was in that locker. And I bet you Bobby - No, Kyle. He’s a snake. He’s always  _ been _ a snake. I bet he told her you took the elk meat from his place. And Kyle, I’m on the reports.”

Nicole pushes just a little further forward, knowing that she needs to get what he says next on record.

“If she looks hard enough, she’ll figure out that I responded to most of those calls. This isn’t-  _ Stop telling me to calm down _ . I’m a cop, Kyle. She’s not stupid, you know. She’ll figure out that I took most of those calls and I didn’t do anything about them, that I just buried the report every time Bobby said you were the ones who broke into his freezer.”

Nicole inhales sharply at that. There’s a difference between thinking something and knowing the truth. And Pine is spilling the truth everywhere. 

“Do you know what they do to dirty cops in jail, Kyle? No, you don’t. Because I’ve kept your sorry ass from ending up there every time I  _ conveniently _ lose a report about you. They’re going to find out I’ve been tipping you off, burying leads, and sweeping things under the rug. It’s only a matter of time!”

Nicole pumps her fist lightly in victory.

Pine sighs softly. “Okay. Fine. You figure it out. Now I need to get back to work while I still have a job.” He pauses. “No. Not next time. I’m out after this. You’re my best friend, but dude. I have a life I can’t afford to lose. Yeah. Later.”

When Pine rounds the corner, the front of his shirt still soaked, Nicole shakes her head and pockets her phone. She holds out her hand for his, the other hand resting on her holster, just in case. “I want you to hand me that phone real slow, Pine.”

His eyes go wide and he takes a step back. “What did you hear?”

She takes a small step forward. “I heard enough. Why don’t you give me the phone and we can take a walk to Nedley’s office, okay?”

She watches Pine’s eyes dart between her and the doorway over her shoulder and the phone in his hand.

“Pine,” Nicole says softly. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Pine takes another step back, his hand on his own belt. Nicole eyes his holster nervously; it’s still buttoned down, but so is hers. She’s not the quickest draw, but she has no idea how fast he can be either. His hand lands on the holster.

“Kevin,” Nicole says sharply. “You’re a decent guy with shitty friends. Don’t let their actions rule how this goes, okay? You said it. It’s your life. Make the right choice here.”

Pine’s shoulders tighten for a second before they slowly relax, his hand drifting off his holster. “I told him you’d figure it out.”

Nicole takes a small step forward. Pine doesn’t move so she steps in closer, taking the phone from his hand and pocketing it. She reaches for her handcuffs and turns him so he’s facing the lockers, locking them around his wrists. “I’ll make sure they know you didn’t put up a fight, okay? But I can promise you it’ll be better for you if you just turn on them.”

Pine lets his head drop forward slightly. “Just bring me to Nedley’s office. And then get me the hell out of Purgatory.”

 

-

She’s still riding the high off Pine’s confession, naming Kyle York as the Purgatory contact for a poaching ring out of Calgary, that the next day she sits down at her desk, pulls out the report she started about the kidnapping, and decides she can tackle it.

Her side hums a little as she writes and her hand aches slightly where it’s wrapped around the pen but she’s ready. 

It takes three hours. She pushes away from her desk when she finishes, leaning back in her chair and twisting until her back cracks slightly. She pulls the report from the printer and scans it quickly before she knocks lightly on Nedley’s door and lets herself in.

Nedley looks up from his paperwork. “Haught. They’re transferring Pine to a place in Calgary. I thought you’d want to know.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicole says.

Nedley frowns. “For what?”

“For…”

“Smoking out a leak in the department?” He makes a face. “Pine made his choices. I’m just glad it was him instead of an Officer who really made a difference around here.” He shuffles some papers on his desk. “By the way, that guy from Fish and Game, Officer What’s-His-Name, called and said you did a great job finding the inside guy here. He mentioned if you’re looking for a job, you should give him a call.” Nedley says it slowly, his eyes never leaving Nicole’s face.

Nicole shrugs. “I’m good right where I am.”

Nedley continues to stare at her for a long moment before he nods slightly and holds out his hand. “Your report?”

It takes a minute to catch up but she nods. “Right. Yeah. Here. I… tried my best.”

Nedley takes the report and leans back in his seat. Nicole drops into the chair in front of his desk, her leg bouncing nervously as he reads the page, his face a mask of indifference. Nicole counts the minutes and after ten, Nedley stands up, the report in his hand.

“Unnatural,” he reads. “Otherworldly. Potential Jack the Ripper.  _ Really _ , Nicole?”

Nicole flinches.

“I like a joke as much as the next guy, but I don’t have time for this,” he continues. He crumples the report and throws it into the trashcan by his desk.

Nicole swallows the lump in her throat. “It wasn’t easy to write any of that down, but it is what I experienced,” she says, trying to keep her voice even. “I  _ swear _ .”

Nedley sighs heavily, his hands on his hips. “Look,” he says, leaning down over his desk. “I know you’ve had a hell of a time. You wanna take a day or two, I understand.”

Nicole looks away and shakes her head. “This isn’t about getting kidnapped.” She takes a steadying breath. “It’s not just that. Sheriff, come on, you gotta admit this place is  _ weird _ .”

“It’s a small town, Nicole. It’s quirky.” 

But Nedley’s voice is too even, too practiced. 

“It’s called Purgatory, for chrissake,” he continues. He gives another sigh. “Look,” he says, sitting down. “If you think it’s anything more than that, you might as well put in your resignation.”

“I don’t want to resign,” she says quickly, unsure how the conversation turned so quickly. “I like it here.”

“Good,” Nedley says firmly.

Nicole pauses for a moment. “I’ll redo the report.” She stands and pauses at the chair before she turns and starts out the door.

“Door,” Nedley calls.

Nicole huffs, but pulls it shut and stomps towards her desk. She pulls her phone out of her drawer, locks the desk, pulls on her jacket and hat, and slaps a palm down on the front counter as she passes it. “I’m going out,” she mutters at Linda’s look of surprise.

She pushes through the front door to the station and nearly runs Waverly over. 

“Whoa!” Waverly says, throwing her hands into the air. “What’s the hold up?” 

There’s an awkward pause as Nicole tries to get her bearings, but she smiles a little. 

“Cause you’re a cop,” Waverly adds.

Nicole shakes her head. “Right. Sorry,” she mutters. She puts a hand on the back of Waverly’s elbow and guides her down the sidewalk. “Um, can we talk?”

Waverly turns to give her a wide smile. “Y-yeah. Yeah. God, we’re totally overdue.”

Nicole feels relief rush through her. She  _ knows _ something is going on in Purgatory and she  _ knows _ the Earps are a part of it. She still has nightmares of the hanging at the homestead, the reanimated Russian mobster, and her kidnapper’s hot hands on her neck. 

“I’m not... I’m not crazy, right?” she asks Waverly tentatively, wringing her hands together. Waverly turns towards her and Nicole meets her eyes. “There’s something going on here?”

“No. You’re not crazy,” Waverly assures her.

“Okay,” Nicole breathes out.

“I’m not sure I’m really ready to… get into it,” Waverly continues.

Nicole stares at her. “Why?”

“Because it’s different for me, right? And it’s… it’s really personal.”

Nicole and rests her hands on her belt. “But it’s personal for  _ everybody _ , right?” she asks, starting to move across the street. “I mean, they must know. People must whisper about it.”

“My God, I hope not!” Waverly gasps. “No, I… I kind of only just discovered it.”

Nicole frowns a little deeper now.

“When I met you,” Waverly finishes.

Nicole pulls back a little. “Me?”

“Yeah,” Waverly says shyly, looking away. “You’re kinda special.”

There’s a soft bloom of warmth in her chest and spreads to her fingertips but she pushes the feeling aside, her confusion taking over. “Okay, uh… Maybe a little more open-minded, but it’s not like I have some mystical gift or something,” she argues. Her eyes catch on Waverly’s neck and they linger there.   
Waverly lets out a soft giggle, turning to jump onto the sidewalk and stand in front of Nicole. It startles her a little. “No, I get it,” she assures Nicole. “You’re a lesbian, not a unicorn, right?”

Nicole pulls back, her head jerking slightly and a dull throb in her side. “What?”

Waverly’s smile fades quickly. “What?”

“You’re making fun of me,” Nicole says slowly.

“No,” Waverly says quickly. She tips her head to the side. “Sorry, don’t you  _ want _ to talk?”

“I want the  _ truth _ ,” Nicole corrects. She keeps feeling a hand on her neck and Nedley’s voice is in her ear, telling her he doesn’t have time for this. She feels a rush of embarrassment flood through her and she scoffs, throwing her hands up in the air and pushing past Waverly, taking long and quick steps down the sidewalk. She can barely hear Waverly say something behind her but she doesn’t turn around.

She keeps walking until she gets to the coffee shop she took Wynonna to and she slips inside, pulling off her hat and blowing hot air into her hand. She orders a hot coffee and takes a table near the window, watching Purgatory pass her by.

She shifts in her seat and feels her phone press into her thigh. She stares at it for a moment after she takes it out and unlocks it, tapping a familiar number into the keypad.

“Hey, baby,” her momma says as soon as the call picks up. “You okay?”

Nicole sighs. “I don’t know.” She pops the top off her coffee and uses a wooden stirrer to make a whirlpool in the cup. “I saw all of this going different,” she admits.

“You saw it?”

Nicole sighs again. “Not  _ saw _ it. I just mean, in a general sense, I saw my life going differently.”

Her momma is quiet for a moment. “Baby, did you take those painkillers again?”

“No,” Nicole huffs. “Completely sober. Completely confused,” she mutters, mostly to herself.

“Remember,” her momma says. “You’re where you're supposed to be, doin’ what you’re supposed to be doin’.”

“I was going to pick Calgary,” she reminds her momma.

“But Purgatory picked you,” her momma counters. “You’re there for a reason, baby.”

“To be the town laughing stock?” she asks. She doesn’t wait for an answer. “To be left in the dark about what this place really is?” She stops moving the stirrer and changes direction, going counter-clockwise. “To be crazy about a girl who thinks I’m as dumb as her rodeo-star boy-man?”

“Now,” her momma chides. “I thought you said she broke up with that boy?”

“Momma,” she groans into the phone.

There’s indistinct mumbling on the other line and then her momma is back in her ear. “Listen, baby. I’ve gotta get Bob down to the community center for his checkers tournament or he’s going to throw a conniption. You’ll call me later?”

“Sure, momma,” she says dutifully.

There’s another long pause before her momma says, “That’s a special place and you are a special girl. You’re honest and you’re kind and you’re going to do your best. And anyone would be lucky to have you, baby. And me and Bob are so proud of you.”

She hangs up after promising to call back in a few days and sits in the window at the coffee shop until Linda calls her and tells her that Nedley is looking for her.

_ Purgatory picked you _ , her momma’s voice echoes in her head.

She only wishes she knew what it picked her for.

 

-

Nicole is so caught up in drafting a text message to Waverly - apologizing, then demanding a re-do on the talk, then apologizing again - that when she finally looks up from her phone, she’s standing in front of Spade’s Butcher Shop. It’s closed up for the night, but there’s a soft light on in the back of the store. Nicole can see through the glass front windows, over the counter, and into the back room. Frowning, she checks the parking spaces in front of the shop but doesn’t recognize any of them as Chris Spade’s truck. She glances back through the window and sighs, sliding her phone into her jacket pocket and unsnapping the button on her holster.

She slips around the edge of the building. More light spills out from the open back door and Nicole curses under her breath. She doesn’t have a radio, can’t call for backup, and it’s already been a pretty shit day.

She can hear hushed voices and narrows her eyes as she tries to put a name to what she’s hearing. It’s too quiet, though, and she knows she needs to get closer if she wants to be able to get any kind of information to report back. Nicole pulls her phone back out and slides a thumb down the screen until she finds Nedley’s name, tapping out a quick message.

**Nicole** _[21:32:14] Pssb intru @ butch pl_

The voices fade out and Nicole hears the soft twinkle of the shop bell as the front door opens. She checks her phone but Nedley hasn’t read the message yet and so she pockets it, takes a deep breath, and slips in through the open door. 

The door to the walk-in freezer is wide open, cold air turning to steam as it meets the warmer December air. Nicole frowns and moves in closer, poking her head in through the door. The freezer is a mess, carcuses and cuts ripped and torn to shreds. Someone threw blood on one of the walls. For a moment, Nicole wonders if maybe it’s human blood, but she shakes that thought away. A pile of meat bones sits in the corner of the freezer, the broken shards stacked precariously high. Her hand comes off her holster and she spins in a circle, taking in the damage as she reaches for her phone to take pictures.

“Well, well, well,” someone says from behind her.

Nicole turns quickly.

Kyle York stands in the doorway to the freezer, a cold smile on his face. “Officer Haught. I thought you died.”

Nicole straightens up a little, squaring her shoulders. “Lucky for you, I didn’t.”

“Don’t be cute. It doesn’t suit you,” he snaps back. He starts to pace back and forth in the doorway. “So where did they take Pine? Think they’ll segregate him for being a cop in a prison?”

Nicole’s phone vibrates in her hand. She grips it tighter to muffle the sound but Kyle doesn’t seem to notice it. “He didn’t tell you?”

Kyle rolls his eyes. “He’s an idiot. He always was. But, he’s smarter than Champ. At least Pine  _ made _ it onto the force.”

Nicole narrows her eyes. “Just how long has he been sweeping your crimes under the rug?”

Kyle shrugs, a gun hanging from his hand. Nicole could reach for her gun but she would never be able to get it out of her holster, undo the safety, and fire before he gets a shot off. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He’ll sob the whole story out anyway. But don’t worry,” he adds, his mouth twisting into a wicked smile. ”I’ll take care of it.”

Her phone goes off again but she can’t read the screen. “What?” she asks, stalling for time to plan something. “You’re going to take him out?”

Kyle laughs. It echoes off the walls of the freezer and sends a shiver down her spine. “This isn’t a bad action movie, you idiot. People don’t ‘take ‘em out’. This is real life.” His voice goes low and his eyes go dark. “I’m just going to kill him and move on.”

Nicole starts to match Kyle’s pacing and she watches him startle a little, his grip tightening on his gun. “How did you even get into something like this?”

Kyle shakes his head, his mouth stretching wide into a smile again. “See? You  _ have _ watched too many crime shows and movies. You think this is the part where you talk to me about the person I could be if I would get just out ‘out of the business’ and find a nice girl to settle down with and pop out a few kids.” He narrows his eyes and tips his head to the side, studying her for a moment. “Is that what  _ you _ want, Officer? You wanna get fat and stupid and lazy working at that sad excuse for a Sheriff’s Department? Marry a girl? Marry  _ Waverly _ ?”

Nicole feels her face twitch and she knows Kyle sees it too.

“Oh, what? You’re surprised?” Kyle drawls. “You’re not exactly hidin’ it well.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, her voice tight and even. 

Kyle smirks at her. “Come on. You think no one has seen the way you look at the town  _ sweetheart _ ? It’s the exact same way every boy in Purgatory has looked at her. You’re not different or special.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“You think no one here knows exactly what you are? You’re  _ disgusting _ .” 

She wants to take the bait. She wants to scream back at him, but she can take it; she’s heard worse.

“Waverly’s no better,” he continues. 

Nicole feels her jaw lock. Her hand tightens around her cellphone until it hurts.

Kyle is barely looking at her now. “I mean, dumping Champ? And for what? For  _ you _ ?”

She pauses for a moment, her body relaxing just slightly. “She… She did?”

Kyle stares at her and rolls his eyes. “Pathetic. Are you kidding me? You’re pathetic. She’d never end up with someone like you. You’re the idiot who moved to the middle of nowhere, way in over your head. And she’s a crazy Earp.” He laughs to himself. “Actually, maybe you deserve each other.”

“You don’t know her,” Nicole hisses, her whole body tense again.

Kyle snorts. “I grew up in this town. Everyone knows the Earps. Everyone knows they’re all goddamn crazy. Wynonna? She  _ killed _ her father. I bet she killed her sister, too. And Waverly? Jesus. Christ. Waverly was always walking around, reading those damn books no one could understand.” He scoffs. “Champ was doin’ her a favor, letting her be his girl. And she threw it all away the minute you rolled into town.” He steps a little closer. “But I got news for you, Officer. You’re  _ nothing _ . And you’re gonna roll out of town just as quick as you came in. Only this time, maybe you’ll go out in a body bag.”

Nicole sees the flash, the gun in his hand reflecting off the light in the back room. She glances around the freezer but there are no other exits. 

“Kyle, you can still turn this around.”

Kyle snorts. “Are you kidding me? That shit might work on Kevin, but I’m not as stupid as he is.”

Nicole tries again. “Then help me take down the rest of them. The more information you give Fish and Game, the more they’ll give back.”

“Shut up,” Kevin snaps. “Bobby and Kevin? They were weak. But there’s a reason why I’m running the show here. And why everyone else follows my orders.”

Pete comes around the corner too quickly and stumbles into Kyle. It’s long enough of a moment for Nicole to pull her gun, holding it high and steady. Kyle straightens and grabs Pete by the shirt, shaking his brother off him. He turns back to Nicole, sees her gun, and snarls at her.

“Sorry, sorry,” Pete mumbles. “Oh.” He steps back, his hands up in the air. 

“Put your hands up, Kyle,” Nicole says calmly.

When Kyle does nothing, Pete elbows him. “Kyle, just do it.”

Nicole nods at Pete. “Listen to your brother, Kyle.”

Kyle’s gun still hangs in his hand. Nicole glances down to it before meeting Kyle’s eyes. “Be smart, Kyle. Your supplier is gone. Your inside man is gone. Where are you going to store your product now? How are you going to hide your crimes?” She inches forward. “Your brother is right. You can still make this work for you. Turn it into a win. Surrender right now and then give up the next guy. You can come out on top in this.”

“ _ Dumb bitch _ ,” he hisses. “Too much snooping around, thinking you’re a real cop.”

There’s a click, a flash of light, and a gun is pressed to her head. All too quickly, he’s the one in charge. She locks her jaw, determined not to let him see her afraid. She glances down and sees her gun at her feet. She’s not sure how it got there but the flaring pain in arm tells her that he probably hit her. 

“Kyle, think about this,” she warns.

“Shut. Up,” he growls.

“Kyle, I don’t like this,” Pete says, his voice high and tight. “This isn’t like Bobby. He-he would be easy. This is a  _ cop _ , Kyle. We can’t kill a cop. I can’t do it, man.”

Kyle’s eyes are dark and he grins crookedly. “Watch  _ me _ , then.”

There’s another soft click and then Kyle’s head tilts forward just a little. Over his shoulder, she can see Wynonna’s grin peeking out from the shadows. Her arm extends out and as Nicole shifts her weight, she can see Wynonna’s gun drawn and pressed against the back of Kyle’s head.

“Hey there,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “We got a problem?”

Nicole straightens up, tightens her grip on her gun, and shrugs. “You tell me, Kyle.”

Kyle snarls at her but slowly puts his hands up in front of him. 

She reaches out slowly and wraps a hand around Kyle’s gun, aiming it at the ground before she pulls it from his hand. She lets the clip go and drops the pieces to the freezer floor. She looks down for a split second as Wynonna turns her attention to Pete. 

“You know,” Kyle growls at her. “From what I’ve heard, Waverly ain’t even that-”

Nicole’s head snaps up as soon as he starts talking. “Don’t finish that sentence,” she warns. 

He steps forward menacingly. “Why? Afraid she won’t live up to the hype?”

“Step back,” she instructs him.

He steps forward again. “Champ used to tell us  _ everything _ ,” he starts to say, lifting his hands and shoving them out, catching her in the shoulder.

It’s enough for her. She pulls her arm back, clocking him in the lower jaw. “Shut up,” she hisses. She shakes her fist out and pulls him back to face her. She spins him and presses him against the wall of the freezer. She pulls her cuffs out of her belt and loops them over his wrists.

“Kyle York, you are under arrest for Section 270 (A) of the Canadian Criminal Code - assaulting a Peace Officer - as well as Section 3, Article 8 of the Canada Wildlife Act regarding Endangered Species. Do you understand? You have the right to retain and instruct counsel without delay. We will provide you with a toll-free telephone lawyer referral service if you do not have your own lawyer. Anything you do say can and will be used in court as evidence. Do you understand these rights as I have told them to you?”

“Eat shit.”

“Would you like to speak to a lawyer?”

She waits but Kyle says nothing.

“I’m taking your silence to mean that you are not requesting to speak to a lawyer,” she tells him.

Wynonna, walking a handcuffed Pete, burps. “That was a nice cross.” 

Nicole feels a grin pushing at her lip. “Yeah?”

“Yep,” Wynonna says slowly, leaning to the side.

“You been drinkin’?”

“Yep,” Wynonna echoes.

Nicole rolls her eyes, but smiles, and stops as they reach the sidewalk in front of the shop window. She frowns as she remembers that she walked to the coffee shop before this and her car is still sitting in her parking spot at the station. She sits Kyle down on the sidewalk and puts Pete on a bench a few feet away before she pulls out her cellphone.

**(2) Missed Calls** Nedley

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Wynonna unscrew the top of a flask and she sighs, reaching to take the flask out of her hands. “I’ll hold onto this.”

“I’m gonna-”

“Shut up, Kyle,” Wynonna and Nicole say at the same time. 

She dials dispatch and calls it in, and as she puts Kyle and Pete York in the back of her cruiser, driven over by Diaz, she feels like she’s on top of the world.

 

-

Nicole is riding so high on the feeling of putting Kyle York behind bars - that satisfying  _ clack _ of the cell bars coming together and the  _ snap _ of the key in the lock -  that when she wakes up, she skips coffee in the morning and heads straight for Shorty’s.

She’s going to sit Waverly down, she’s going to say everything she wants to say, and she’s going to get the girl.

_ If the girl wants to be got _ , she reminds herself. 

Nedley had signed off on the transfer of prisoners with the Fish and Game guys late last night, took a look at Nicole, and told her not to come in until eleven o’clock. She had stumbled back to her apartment by three in the morning, exhaustion pulling at her eyelids, and poured herself a single shot of whisky, downing it and swallowing past the burn. 

She falls into a dreamless sleep for the first time since she saw Kyle York hold a gun to her head.

When she woke up, it was slow. The light flickered in through her curtains and Banjo purred quietly in her ear and there was a weight, a warm weight that settled in her chest. She kept the window cracked open just a little, to let some air into her apartment so everything wouldn’t feel so stale, and it licked at her cheeks and for a moment, things were perfect.

There was no rush to get things done, to get to the station and twiddle her thumbs until  _ maybepossiblyprobably _ the moment Kyle York pulls a gun on her. It already happened; she could breathe now. And as soon as she took her first breath, she thought of Waverly and she made up her mind.

It’s not even eleven in the morning, but Shorty’s has a quiet crowd shuffling around with pint glasses in their hands. Nicole holds her hat between her hands and stretches up on her toes a little to see over Joey Thorton suddenly standing in front of her. She nods at whatever question he asks but continues to look over, rocking back onto her heels with a soft sigh. Joey moves past her and she slips up next to the bar, giving Gus a small wave.

“She’s not here,” Gus says instead of  _ hello _ .

Nicole’s mouth drops a little but she manages to turn her surprise into denial. “I’m not sure who-” She stops when Gus shoots her a look. “Is she avoiding me?”

Gus pauses and frowns, the soda gun stopping in her hand. “Oh, you’re on her list too?”

Nicole slumps into a stool. “There’s a list?” She sighs. “Things got… mixed up.”

Gus continues to eye her, holstering the soda gun after she’s done filling a glass with Sprite. She pushes it in front of Nicole. Nicole sips from it and winces at the sticky taste it leaves in her mouth. Still, she goes to take another sip.

“You like her,” Gus says.

Nicole swallows the Sprite in her mouth and coughs most of it back up as it goes down the wrong tube.

Gus nods decisively. “I think you’d be good for her.”

“I think she’s good all on her own,” Nicole fires back.

“Down, girl,” Gus warns. “I ain’t sayin’ she needs to be kept, so don’t think I’m not all for Waverly, the Modern Woman.” She pulls her own glass from under the bar and fills it with water. “I just think someone like you… You could be good for her.”

Nicole smiles slowly and hesitantly, unsure of how to take that.

Gus keeps going. “And I may be an old woman, but that girl is the closest I’ve got to my own and I’d do anything for her.” She pauses and looks Nicole square in the eye. “Anything.”

Nicole swallows heavily. “Yes, ma’am.”

Gus nods sharply. “Well, good.” She waits until Nicole drains her glass and puts it back down on the bar, wiping at the back of her mouth. “She ain’t avoiding you. Not that I think, at least. She just does this sometimes, when she needs to clear her head. Take the road out of town and you’ll find her.” Gus sweeps Nicole’s glass off the bar top and slings it into the washing basin. “Don’t let her give you run-around either. Sometimes, that girl just needs a good push.”

Nicole tips her head to the side and goes to say something, but changes her mind instead. She puts her hat back on and tips it in Gus’s direction, hustling through the cold back to her cruiser. She turns the radio up loud as she floors it on Main Street, down the only road leading in or out. It takes a few minutes, one Johnny Cash and one Willie Nelson song, until she spots a lone figure against the snow. She turns down her radio and the driver’s side window and slows to a crawl as she comes up next to Waverly, careful not to splash any of last night’s snow onto her. 

She drives next to her for a minute before she clears her throat. “Waverly, what’re you doing?” she asks.

Waverly barely looks back at her. “Being alone. I wanna be alone.”

Nicole leans a little over the steering and sees the ‘Welcome to Purgatory’ sign ahead of them. “Alright, well, you’ve reached the edge of town. Any further out and you’ll freeze to death.” She tries to give the back of Waverly’s head a charming smile. “Just get in the car.”

“No thank you” Waverly sings.

Gus’s voice echoes in Nicole’s head.  _ Sometimes, that girl just needs a good push _ .

“I’ve got a Taser,” she says. “Don’t you make me use it.”

Waverly huffs loudly but stops walking. She stares at Nicole and Nicole tries her hardest to look serious. It must work, because Waverly huffs again, a cloud of hot air against the cool winter day, and rounds the front of the cruiser, sliding into the passenger seat.

Nicole’s mind flashes back to the last Earp who got into her passenger seat, but she pushes the thought out of her head before it lingers too long. She turns up the heat and hides her smile when Waverly reaches for the vents, holding her hands in front of them. She pulls over to the side of the road and turns off the radio completely. They sit in silence for a long moment. Nicole taps a single finger on the bottom of the steering wheel.

“Okay,” she says. “So I’ll start. I’m sorry for being such an asshole before.”

Waverly barely lets her finish the sentence. “First you wanna talk,” she accuses. “Then you don’t wanna talk. Then you tell me to talk-”

“Okay, well maybe we should figure out exactly what it is we’re talking about,” Nicole interrupts.

“Gus is selling Shorty’s,” Waverly says out of the blue. “She acts like she won’t, but she is. And everything is changing around me, but it’s all too fast, you know? And it’s like, nobody ever asks me if I’m okay with it. Like, could everybody just stand still for one friggin’ minute?”

Nicole pauses for a second. “Hey…” She reaches out and puts her hand on Waverly’s leg. She doesn’t think about it; she just wants to be Waverly’s grounding force. “It’s gonna be okay.” Waverly looks down at her hand and Nicole pulls it back, clenching it into a fist in her own lap.

“I just screamed at you,” Waverly says quietly. “You shouldn’t be nice to me.”

Nicole’s lips twitch in something like a smile. “Yeah, well, I think you’ve just been dating too many shitheads,” she says with a small laugh.

Waverly’s face twists. “We’re  _ not _ dating.”

Nicole feels her face flush in embarrassment. “I know,” she says. She looks out the windshield, then to Waverly, and then back out of the windshield. “ _ God _ , Waverly, I would never ask you to be something you’re not.”

_ “Wait, what? You’re a… _ ” she hears Waverly saying all over again.

“Good,” Waverly says from the passenger seat. “Just, don’t ask me to be anyone at all.”

“Fine,” Nicole spits.

“Fine,” Waverly snaps back. She pauses for a moment and then her voice is quiet. “Well, maybe just friends.”

Nicole scoffs. “Yeah,” she drags out. “Sure, Waverly. Whatever you want.”

They don’t talk the whole way back into town. Waverly barely waits until the cruiser comes to a stop before she’s opening the door and sliding out into the snowbank. She shuts the door behind her without looking back.

Nicole stays there, idling along the sidewalk, and wonders how all of her good days go bad so quickly. 

 

-

There’s a flurry of activity at the front door of the station. It’s the middle of the afternoon and she’s four coffees into her shift, to make up for the bucket of cold water Waverly dumped over her head earlier. She looks up as the noise gets closer, her mouth still stuck to her coffee mug. It’s a quiet shift; with Pine gone and no one coming to work days - unless absolutely necessary - until the next rotation comes around, and Linda out on her lunch break, she’s alone in the station except for Nedley, locked in his office finishing the budget plans for the next town meeting.

When Juan Carlos rounds the corner and comes into view, Nicole rolls her eyes and finishes taking a drink from her coffee. When she’s done, she puts it down slowly and stands calmly.

“Listen, buddy. I don’t have time today for your psychoanalytic nonsense, okay?” she starts. “I’m just really not in the mood for-”

“I’ve been looking for you,” he says, his eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

Nicole steps back. “Excuse me?” Her hand goes to her side.

Juan Carlos takes his hat off and runs his hand over the top of his head. “You stupid, stupid girl. You can’t just  _ change _ things.”

Nicole frowns but stands her ground. “I’ll say it again.  _ Excuse me _ ?”

He’s in front of her before she can react. His hand is cold around her wrist and when he tugs, Nicole feels the world start to spin. It feels like the moments before she gets her visions but she doesn’t see anything. The world just stops around her. The clock slows down - a dull  _ thump, thump, thump _ of the second hand. She looks at where his hand wraps around her skin and she gasps but the sound is quick and loud. His hand is a blinding white, glistening almost. She follows his hand to his arm to his chest and gasps again. His entire being is glowing now, nearly blinding her. She squints and tries to step back but his grip is too tight and she can’t move. She meets his eyes but they look nothing like what she remembers. Now they’re ice blue, a cold depth to them that she can’t quite escape. 

Then she blinks and the clock is steadily ticking and Juan Carlos is in front of her again, his 5 o’clock shadow dark on his jaw and eyes a dull brown color. She pulls out of his grip and stumbles back over her chair. 

“Wh-what are you?”

He gives her a crooked grin. “What do you think I am?”

Nicole shakes her head. “You’re… You’re not human.”

“No, I’m not,” he says calmly.

Nicole looks wildly around the bullpen. Linda, coming back from her lunch, frowns at the two of them as she stashes her lunch bag under the counter and pulls her book-of-the-week out. Nicole grabs Juan Carlos by the sleeve of his plaid shirt and tugs him through the bullpen, pushing him into an interrogation observation room. 

“You’re not human?” she repeats. 

He stretches his arms out and shrugs. “Human in some ways. But mostly not.”

She paces along the one-way mirror. “Then… Then what? Half-human, half…” She stops and frowns. “Did you have wings?”

Juan Carlos lowers his arms. “I’d say you’re not so stupid after all, but then I remind myself that you’re the one messing with the fate of the world.”

“An angel,” Nicole scoffs. “Where the hell were you when I  _ died _ ?”

Juan Carlos doesn’t laugh or smile. “Weren’t you the wrong kind?” he asks her. “That wasn’t by accident.”

Nicole feels herself lunge forward, grabbing him by the collar and pushing until his back is against the wall. “You son of a bitch,” she growls in his face. “It should have been me instead of Wynonna. It should have been  _ me _ .”

He leans in close, his breath hot against her face. “You can’t save both Earps,” he hisses. “You made your choice. And when you picked  _ Waverly _ , you changed predetermined paths of the future.”

Nicole shakes her head. “Not this again,” she grumbles.

He grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her. “ _ Yes _ , this again. Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve taken the timeline and you’ve  _ destroyed _ it.”

She tries to get out of his grip but he’s strong.

“You meddlesome girl. You can’t change  _ fate _ . Not without consequences,” he hisses. “The Earp girl - she should be  _ dead _ . It was predetermined, long before you came into her world.”

Nicole breaks the hold he has on her and shoves him a few steps back. “I saved her,” she reminds him. “I saved her three times. And I’d save her a hundred times more.” She turns and reaches for the door handle.

“There were  _ consequences, _ ” he fires back. “The universe keeps score, Nicole Haught. An eye for an eye.”

She stops short, her hand on the knob. “But Waverly was fine,” she says, more to herself than to him. She turns back to him. “I saved her from hanging and she was fine.”

Juan Carlos is quiet for a moment. “Her aunt, Gus? She was rushed to the ICU in the city after those same men beat her up,” he finally says.

Nicole’s hand falls from the door knob. “But… Gus is alive.”

“The first deviation was…” Juan Carlos pauses and taps his fingers together. “Inconsequential.”

“Inconsequential?” Nicole echoes. “The ICU isn’t inconsequential. Gus-”

“Nearly died, but didn’t,” Juan Carlos finishes quickly. “And now that you’ve picked Waverly to live, now that you  _ keep _ saving her, you’ve altered everyone else’s timeline,” he says, his voice weary.

Nicole’s back hits the door. “But I did the right thing,” she argues, her voice breaking. “I saved her. She-she  _ deserves _ to live. I couldn’t… I couldn’t just  _ let _ her die.”

“You changed the fabric of fate,” he says again. “There is such a thing as ‘cause and effect’, Nicole. And when you caused Waverly to survive  _ multiple _ attempts on her life, you affected the lives of others.”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t want Gus to get hurt.” 

“She’s not the only one,” Juan Carlos says softly.

Nicole’s head snaps up. “Who?” she asks, her voice stricken. “I saved her at the trailer park and-”

“Shorty,” Juan Carlos says simply.

“But he had a heart attack.”

“Did he?” Juan Carlos shakes his head. 

“But you said, at his funeral, that he was always fated to die at the hands of those men,” she reminds him.

“I asked you if you believed that we all have a life plan and his was to die at the hands of those men,” he corrected gently. “Shorty had a life plan. He was going to grow old and gift the bar to Gus and retire in Florida.”

Nicole covers her open mouth with her hand. “At the homestead?”

“Stephanie Jones was going to look lovely in her wedding dress,” he answers, his voice soft.

“And Wynonna…” Nicole says, wringing her hands together. “Because-”

“You picked Waverly,” he finishes for her.

Nicole feels sick to her stomach.  _ You can’t change what the world has decided has to happen _ , her momma always told her. 

“Why see things if you can’t change them?” she whispers to herself. She can feel Juan Carlos’s eyes on her. 

“That’s just the way it is,” he whispers back. ‘It’s a blessing and a curse.”

She looks up at him. Her eyes feel wet and they burn with unshed tears. Her chest feels tight. Her fingertips buzz. “They got hurt. Those people got hurt because I saved Waverly.”

Juan Carlos sighs and brings his hand down on her shoulder, squeezing softly. “A life for a life,” he repeats. He twists the doorknob and pulls the door open. “Remember that the next time you decide she’s worth killing someone else for.”

The room dims a little as he closes the door behind him.

 

-

“I don’t know what’s got your panties in a knot, but you do not look like someone who got themselves recognized by a government agency,” Linda drawls.

Nicole looks up from where she’s slumped over her desk and groans a response but doesn’t pick her head up.

“You’re depressing the entire shift.”

Nicole sits up. “Linda, it’s just you and me here.”

“I said what I said,” Linda fires back. She drops her romance novel on Nicole’s desk. “You need some excitement in your life.”

“I have enough of that,” she mutters.

Linda perches on the edge of Nicole’s desk and frowns down at her. “Sue Yates told me she saw you droppin’ Waverly Earp off at work this mornin’. Comments?”

Nicole slides her chair back, putting some distance between her and Linda. “What’re you, running a gossip magazine?”

Linda rolls her eyes. “I thought you were done with her.”

“Waverly Earp isn’t the kind of girl you give up on, right?” Nicole parrots.

Linda narrows her eyes. “I don’t like my own words being thrown back at me like that, girl.”

Nicole gives Linda a large smile. “Anyway, I know you didn’t interrupt my self-wallowing for nothing.”

Linda pushes off the desk and straightens up. “I need you to man the desk. There’s a Tupperware party down at Cheryl Rosen’s house and I was not invited.”

“...So you’re going to crash it.”

“So I am going to invite myself over,” Linda corrects, pulling a sweater on over her uniform shirt.

Nicole scoffs.

“Don’t get fresh with me, girl.”

Nicole salutes mockingly. “Yeah, yeah. I can watch the desk. But hey,” she says as Linda starts moving around the front counter. “If Mrs. Rosen made any of those little pigs in a blanket, will you bring me back some?” She pauses for a moment. “And not in any of the sample Tupperware? Pretty sure that’s why they didn’t invite you this time.”

Linda waves a hand dismissively, pausing on the other side of the counter as Nicole takes a seat. “In my world, sample means I can take it.”

Nicole goes to open her mouth to say something just as the front door opens and Waverly comes flying in. Her hair is long and loose and it flutters and drifts behind her as she walks up to the counter, pushing past Linda without so much as a hello, and pausing just briefly in front of Nicole.

“Hey, Nedley out for dinner?” she asks.

Nicole’s brain defaults to her ‘there’s a pretty girl in front of you’ setting and she tries for something funny. “You mean Happy Hour at Shorty’s? Same time every day, like clockwork.”

Waverly barely waits for the end of the sentence before she’s slipping into Nedley’s office.

“Hey,” Nicole tries. She sees a shade snap shut inside the office. “Wave,” she tries again. Another shade closes. She pushes off her stool and into Nedley’s office door, running into Waverly. “Hey!”

Waverly’s hands are hot through Nicole’s uniform shirt as she pushes Nicole out of the doorway, further into the office. “Excuse me,” she mumbles.

Nicole is tired. The York brothers might be behind bars and Pine might be gone and she doesn’t have to constantly look over her shoulder for someone coming to kill her, but Juan Carlos has been running laps in her head all day long, screaming ‘ _ A life for a life’ _ on a loop. Waverly Earp has been a yo-yo lately, pulling her back and forth and turning Nicole upside down just to shake her up. She’s too tired and not up for whatever game Waverly is planning. 

“What is your problem?” she snaps. “You-”

Waverly is light. It’s the first thought Nicole has. Waverly is weightless and Nicole’s hands slide against the skin of Waverly’s arms so easily, catching at her wrists and holding Waverly close as they go stumbling backwards. Her next thought is that Waverly kisses like the world is ending, like she’s running out of air and Nicole is the last source of oxygen. She pants into Nicole’s mouth, pressing their bodies together tightly and pushing until Nicole feels the back of her knees hit the couch.

She falls.

Waverly falls with her.

“What happened to being friends?” she pants.

Waverly sits up abruptly. “You know what I've always wanted?” 

Nicole pushes up a little, her angle all wrong. “What?” 

“To parachute out of a plane at fifteen thousand feet. Yeah,” Waverly adds when Nicole gives her a confused look. “To swim far, far out into the ocean so that I can't see the bottom anymore. To eat geoduck!” Her hand lands on Nicole’s thigh.

Nicole frowns. “Isn't it the one that kinda looks like a p-” 

“Yeah, it is,” Waverly interrupts. “Point is, I've always wanted to do things that scared me. But, well, it's not so easy to be brazen,” she says, looking down at the hand on Nicole’s thigh before letting it slide into the barely-empty space between them. “When the thing that you want, that scares you to death, is sitting right in front of you.” 

Nicole feels herself melt at the admission. “I scare you?” 

“Yes,” Waverly breathes out with a soft smile. “Yes, you do. Because I don't wanna be friends. When I think about what I wanna do most in this world... it's you.” She shakes her head softly and clenches her fist. “Oh God, that sounded so much more romantic in my head. Just jump in anytime, Nicole, because I really, really don't know how to do this.” 

Nicole feels herself smirk. “Oh, sure you do,” she rasps.

Waverly’s eyes darken. “Maybe I should just stop talking.” 

Nicole winds Waverly’s scarf around her hands, tugging Waverly in gently. “See, you're getting better at this already.” 

Waverly’s eyes drift towards Nicole’s mouth. “Maybe you should stop talking too.”

Nicole smiles widely. “Maybe you should make me.”

Waverly leans in again, her nose bumping against Nicole’s. Nicole pushes forward, giving Waverly a moment to let her legs twist beneath their bodies before she presses Waverly back against the arm of the couch, her hands sliding up Waverly’s side to her cheek. She pulls back, her whole body heaving - the reality of this moment sinking in - and she pauses for a second, eyes closed, before she leans back in and kisses Waverly again.

They don’t say much of anything after that.


	8. viii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like my Chapter Notes are devolving the further along I go. But there is this: I almostpossiblyprobably promise that there will only be 10 chapter and then you can hang this fic up on the shelf and leave it alone.

Nicole ignores the look Linda is giving her and tries to read the report in her hand instead. It’s not easy. She hasn’t gotten past the charge yet -  _ C. C. 430 (1) (a) Mischief - destroys or damages property _ \- even though she’s had the page in front of her for ten minutes.

Ten minutes is exactly how long Waverly Earp has been standing at the small conference table fifteen feet from her desk, looking at her out of the corner of her eye. 

Nicole had just put down her phone, her cheeks aching from smiling so much as she fired off another text to Waverly, when Linda had drawled out a ‘hello,’ long and slow and suspiciously. Nicole had the report in her hand, determined to figure out exactly what Sean Hanley was being charged with, but looked up when Linda snorted.

Waverly Earp, smiling at her from the front counter.

“Of course she’s here,” Linda had said, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. “Where else would she be?”

“Linda,” Nicole said loudly. “I can take this one.”

Linda snorted again. “Like hell you can, girl. This isn’t your social hour.”

Nicole had resisted the urge to point out that Linda reads four romance novels a week, runs a book club out of the large interrogation room, and regularly slips Jimmy Levin a few bills each time he drops off a soda for her, just to get some gossip on the comings and goings of Purgatory. Instead, she slumped into her seat and slipped her phone under her desk and carefully tapped out a message with one finger.

Waverly had sighed and headed towards the Black Badge office. A few minutes later, she was back in the bullpen, telling Linda she absolutely, definitely needed to make some notes about the water consumption in the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department bullpen.

She’s been taking notes for ten minutes now.

Nicole keeps looking up as she gets to the end of the definition of  _ mischief _ and Waverly is always looking back at her, the ends of her lips turned up slightly. Nicole shivers a little; she can still feel the corners of those lips under her own. She bites down on her lip and looks away, feeling a rush of heat under the collar of her shirt. 

Linda huffs from the front counter. “It’s my coffee time.”

Nicole looks up at the clock too quickly. “Yes,” she says just as fast. She hears someone snicker but when she glances quickly at Linda and Waverly, she can’t tell who it was.

“Don’t be rushin’ me out of here,” Linda says. “Maybe I don’t need a coffee today.”

Nicole tries to swallow the groan rising in her throat. She takes a deep breath instead and tilts her head, studying Linda. “Maybe you don’t,” she says, trying reverse psychology. She learned about it at the academy - persuade your suspect to do what you want by asking them to do the opposite. 

Linda narrows her eyes. “You’re right. My doctor is always sayin’ the caffeine is bad for my blood pressure.”

“Oh, _so_ _many_ things are bad for your blood pressure,” Waverly blurts. “Salt. Not getting enough sleep. Obesity. Not being active. Drugs and Alcohol. A bad diet. Uh, a-age.”

Linda stares at Waverly silently for a moment before she looks at Nicole. “And whatever this thing you two are doin’ in my bullpen, too.”

Nicole chokes on her next gulp of air. Waverly’s mouth snaps closed.

Linda nods to herself. “Mhmm. I’m staying right here. We finally got rid of the trash in this department. I don’t need another scandal happenin’ on my watch.”

“Linda,” Nicole admonishes.

Linda shrugs unapologetically.

Nicole shoots Waverly a look as Linda turns around, thumbing her book back open. Waverly gives her a soft, sad smile and shrugs one shoulder. She starts to flip her notebook closed and Nicole feels her stomach bottoming out at the possibility that Waverly is going to just give up and head back into the Black Badge office. She glances around the bullpen frantically, trying to figure out how she can get Linda out of the building for even just a second - there’s no way she can leave and  _ not _ have that look suspicious or obvious.

“Ruthie!” Nicole blurts out.

Linda turns back around. “What about her?”

Nicole looks desperately at Waverly but Waverly looks just as confused as Linda. Nicole turns back to Linda. “Uh, weren’t you having some weird competition with Ruthie?”

“We were seein’ who could go the most days without cancellin’ on our coffee time,” Linda says slowly.

“If you skip, won’t you lose?”

Linda narrows her eyes. “Well…”

Nicole shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure you mentioned the loser was buying double cards at Bingo, too.”

Linda curses. She points a finger at Nicole. “You’re the worst kind of smartass there is, girl.”

“It’s because I’m right most of the time.”

Linda ignores her. She takes her time sliding off her stool and pulling on her sweater. She carefully pushes her stool under the counter and tidies some loose pamphlets. She looks back at Nicole. “Don’t do anything you don’t want me to call your momma about.” 

Nicole puts her hands up in front of her. “I would never.”

Linda huffs, but turns and leaves, the bell above the door jingling as it closes. 

Nicole counts to ten in her head before she pushes up out of her chair. She takes a few quick steps to Waverly, dragging her hand across the top of the table and picking up a loose file. She grabs Waverly’s wrist with her other hand, tugging her the last few steps to Nedley’s office, and opening the door. She turns before she even gets inside, leaning down with a smile to try and kiss Waverly.

She feels her bottom lip brush against Waverly’s top lip and-

Nicole turns quickly, leaning into the doorway. She can feel Waverly’s hip brush against her own.

“What’re you guys doing in Nedley’s office?” Wynonna says, placing her hands on top of the counter.

“Uh, because-”

“I was, and-”

Wynonna shrugs. “Okay, here she blows. I slept with Doc.”

It takes a half of a second for Nicole to think  _ Henry is Doc _ and then she snorts. “And that’s news? Really?” She glances at Waverly. “To… To you. Okay.”

The phone rings at her desk and she ducks her head as she moves across the bullpen to answer it. Waverly is moving towards the counter, whispering back and forth with Wynonna.

Her voice becomes a hiss. The phone ringing sounds like a dull alarm. She can feel her hand reaching for the phone but she’s moving too slow to get there, the air rippling around her.

She’s in the station still, but the lights are brighter and the setting sun is beating through the windows near the back of the bullpen. She can see herself on the other side of the bullpen, crouched down next to something. She knows it’s the chair by her desk but she can’t see who is in it. There’s a gray mist floating around her desk, masking the person she’s talking to.

_ “You don’t have to leave with her _ ,” she’s telling the person.

Wynonna stalks towards the desk, her face tight and drawn. The mist starts to swallow her. “ _ I don’t care what your  _ protocol _ is, Nedley. She’s coming with me _ .”

Nicole watches herself stand, moving in front of the gray swirling mist. She watches herself start to disappear in it.  _ “She doesn’t need to go if she doesn’t want to _ .”

A hand comes out of the mist and presses tightly to Nicole’s arm.  _ “Officer… _ ”

_ “She belongs at the homestead,” _ Wynonna says. The mist starts to creep across the bullpen and crawl up the walls of the station.

It almost sounds like Wynonna says  _ with family _ but Nicole can’t hear, can’t see, a blur across her eyes.

_ “W-Eve. Come on.” _ Wynonna’s voice snaps from somewhere in the mist cloud. _ “You’re coming home with me.” _

Nicole blinks and Wynonna’s voice is still in her ear but she’s on the other side of the counter, whispering harshly to Waverly. Nicole frowns. 

The gray mist whirling, clouding everything in her vision - that’s never happened before.

“This is Haught,” she says into the phone, blinking once more to clear her head before she looks at Waverly. Her eyes start at Waverly’s head and travel down to her furry boots. “No one should be able to pull those off,” she mutters to herself. 

“Pull what off,” Linda snaps at her. “Whatever you are doin’, stop it right now.”

Nicole groans and presses her palm against her forehead. “Linda, I am a grown woman who-”

“Doesn’t know her head from a horse’s ass when Waverly Earp is around,” Linda finishes. “But I was really callin’ because Ruthie cancelled soon as I got here and now I get her extra cards at Bingo. So I’m pickin’ you up some decent coffee. Is that alright with you, Ms. Thing?”

Nicole feels her cheeks flush and she ducks her head, shielding herself with her hand. “Yes, ma’am,” she says quietly into the phone.

Linda hangs up on her. 

“Everything okay?” Waverly asks.

Nicole startles, jumping back away from her desk. The wheels on her chair catch. “ _ God _ ,” she breathes out.

Waverly walks her fingers across the desk top, reaching out to grab the edge of Nicole’s shirt, pulling her back towards the desk. “Sorry,” she says, not looking sorry at all.

Nicole stands up. Waverly’s hand slides up her arm, her fingers playing with Nicole’s collar. “You can make it up to me,” she offers.

Waverly’s lips curve upwards. “Oh, yeah?”

Nicole rests her hand on Waverly’s hip. “Yes. Dinner. Tonight?” She slides her hand to Waverly’s lower back, pulling her closer. “We can go out somewhere. Somewhere fancy, maybe?”

Waverly’s hands drift to the back of Nicole’s head, brushing against the small hairs slipping out from her braid. She meets Nicole’s eyes. “Would you wear a dress? Not that I don’t like your khakis, because…” Her eyes drift down between their bodies before she meets Nicole’s eyes again. “They are  _ really _ cute. But I was thinking, last night, about you in a dress and…”

Nicole smirks. “I can probably drag one from the depths of my closet,” she offers.

Waverly exhales softly against her mouth. “That’d be nice,” she murmurs just before their lips touch.

Nicole feels Waverly pressing against her, her fingertips sliding into Nicole’s braid. She tightens her grip on Waverly’s waist, trying to eliminate any space between them. The corner of her desk digs uncomfortably into her thigh but Waverly’s tongue edges along her bottom lip and she forgets about the bruising pain. 

“Black dress,” Waverly mumbles.

Nicole pulls back from the kiss and moves one hand to Waverly’s jaw. “Huh?” she asks, slightly dazed. Her fingers slip and she finds herself tracing an invisible line along Waverly’s throat.

“A black dress,” Waverly repeats. “Heels, too. Candles.”

“You thought about this,” Nicole says softly.

Waverly runs one finger down the buttons of Nicole’s uniform shirt. “I’ve thought a lot about you,” she whispers.

Nicole grins and leans back down, kissing Waverly square on the mouth. She lets her hand slide into Waverly’s hair, winding a strand around her finger as her tongue presses at the seam of Waverly’s lips.

The bell above the door jingles and Waverly pulls away from her, her chest heaving slightly. Nicole smiles a little to herself, knowing she’s the reason, and smoothes her hands along her collar, straightening the wrinkle Waverly put in it. 

“I only got coffee for you,” Linda snaps, putting the cup down on the Nicole’s desk a littler harder than she needs to. “So you,” she says, pointing at Waverly, “need to find your  _ coffee _ somewhere else.”

Waverly gives Linda a blinding smile and Nicole watches in fascination as Linda’s face softens just the tiniest bit. “Oh, don’t worry, Linda,” Waverly says. “I have some tea bags in the kitchen.”

“Alright, well, fine,” Linda grumbles, but her words have less sting. She turns her attention back to Nicole. “I saw Pine’s girlfriend at the coffee shop. She doesn’t seem too bothered by him bein’ gone.” There’s a twinkle in Linda’s eye and she takes a long sip of her coffee. 

Nicole knows that look and she knows she’s in for an afternoon of work sprinkled with Linda’s color commentary on whatever she picked up at the coffee shop in the twenty minutes she was gone. Waverly taps a finger on Nicole’s desk, getting her attention. Nicole looks up and gives Waverly a small smile.

“I’ve got to run and see if Wynonna needs me for anything, but I’ll, uh,  _ pop by _ later?” she asks.

Nicole makes an effort not to smile too widely. “Sure. That’d be okay,” she says, trying to play it cool.

Linda snorts.

Waverly wiggles her fingers in a wave and slips out of the bullpen. Nicole stares after her and doesn’t look away until Linda snorts again. Nicole sends a half-hearted glare in Linda’s direction but sits down at the counter and spends the next two hours of her shift ignoring Sean Hanley’s arrest report and listening to Linda give her the abridged version of Ruthie’s latest drama.

She’s nearly at her lunch break when Waverly slips back into the building, trailing behind Wynonna.

Nicole looks up from her spot at the counter and smiles widely. “Okay, so where were we? Because I seem to think it was something about, like, candles, you trying to get me into a sexy black dress…” She frowns. “Something’s wrong.”

“A lot of things might be wrong,” Waverly says, her eyes unfocused. “Dolls and Wynonna and her gun…”

Nicole tips her head to the side. “What is the deal with that gun anyway?” she asks. She remembers back to the hanging, to pulling Waverly down from that lychgate and the sound of Wynonna’s gun, the screams, and then silence.

Waverly opens her mouth but the radio next to her crackles to life.

“ _ We have reports of a pink, four-door sedan driving erratically down Highway 81. Please respond _ .”

Waverly’s head snaps up. “Did she say pink?”

Nicole offers to take the call; Highway 81 isn’t too far out of her way and she wants to eat her sandwich without Linda crabbing about her eating pastrami in the bullpen again. Her passenger door opens as she starts the car but there’s a look on Waverly’s face that says she should just leave this one alone.

She gets out of her cruiser and slowly walks up to the pink Continental.

Henry grins at her from behind the driver’s seat.

Nicole sighs. “You’re doing 140 in a 50 zone,” she says flatly. “License and registration.

Henry frowns slightly. “Well, it’s me, Officer Haught. I have neither of those things.”

A car door opens and slams shut. Nicole looks up against the blinding snow and sighs. “Oh boy.”

“How about a friggin explanation!” Waverly shouts.

Henry looks panicked. “If there is any kindness in you, you will arrest me, and  _ quick _ .” 

Nicole sees the look on Waverly’s face and immediately backs up. Her eyes are narrowed and there’s a cute wrinkle in her forehead that Nicole wants to kiss away. Instead, she shakes her head at Henry, finishes writing the ticket, and hands it to him. “Sorry, Stone Cold,” she mutters as Waverly comes to a stop next to her. She gives Waverly a soft smile and goes back to her cruiser to wait. She bites into her sandwich and frowns as she tries to figure out why Waverly is so upset about Henry taking the road out of town.

It takes about ten minutes before Henry drives off again, slower this time, and Waverly is left standing on the side of the road in the snow. Nicole edges forward and rolls her window down, leaning out of the cruiser. 

“Come on,” she says gently. “I’ll drive you home.”

Waverly slips back into the cruiser and slumps into the passenger seat. Nicole reaches across the front seat and rests her hand on Waverly’s knee.

Waverly’s hand rests on top of her own the whole ride back to the homestead. 

 

-

“Haught, I know you’re headed out,” Nedley starts, a weary look on his face. “But I could really use your help.”

Nicole stares longingly at her cruiser keys in her hand and sighs. She was going to go home, pull a cold beer out of the fridge and finish the next episode of Longmire. One look at Nedley, bags under his eyes and lines across his forehead, and she knows that she’s gonna be here a while. She takes her hat back off and puts it down on her desk. “Sure, Sheriff. What do you need?”

He sighs. “Somethin’ happened in the Pine Barrens. Deputy Marshal Dolls called ahead and they’re bringing in a bunch of girls who’ve been reported missing over the last few years.” He rubs a hand across his face. “ _ Shit _ . I can’t make all these phone calls and take statements.”

Nicole is already tossing her keys in her desk drawer and grabbing a pen and notepad. “Which one do you want me to do?”

“Take statements, would ya?” he asks. He holds out a piece of paper. “Waverly Earp gave me a list of names and I’ve got to track down families. I’ll let you know who I get in touch with, and you can take those statements first when they get here. Dolls said he wasn’t too far out.”

Nicole’s heart clenches at the sound of Waverly’s name. There’s a burst of pride in her chest. Of course Waverly provided the list of names; she had been buried in  _ something _ the last day or two, across the hall in the Black Badge office. Nicole had snuck in earlier, under penalty of death, to slip a fresh tea down in front of Waverly.

“I’m still serious about that date,” Waverly had murmured, barely looking up.

“Sure, Waves,,” Nicole assures Waverly, leaning down to kiss the crown of her head softly before sneaking back out of the office. 

Now Nicole busies herself with cleaning up the bullpen, clearing off the benches in the back and tidying up the desks. She finds as many extra chairs as she can in the back room. She knows the station is going to be flooded; first, with the women Nedley has said they’re bringing in, and then with their families. 

**Waverly** _[18:09:12]: Gus wants a ‘family dinner’ with me and Wynonna_

**Waverly** _ [18:09:45]: I tried to get out of it :( _

**Nicole** _[18:10:34] Something came up at the station and Nedley asked me to stay_

**Waverly** _ [18:12:23]: Because you’re his favorite _

**Nicole** _ [18:13:14] Raincheck on that black dress? _

**Waverly** _ [18:14:35] I’ll hold you to that _

**Nicole** _ [18:15:20] You can hold me to whatever you want _

**Nicole** _[18:15:27] That was awful I’m sorry_

 **Waverly** _[18:16:46] I’ll hold you to that too ;)_

She locks her phone in her desk and then keeps going, emptying the vending machine in the front entrance. She unlocks the back with the key from Linda’s drawer and pulls all of the waters and snacks out. She presses an ‘IOU’ sticky note to the back panel and an ‘Out of Order’ sign to the front. By the time Nedley comes back out of his office, somehow looking even more tired than when he went in, she’s got the whole place ready for a stampede of fear and reunions. 

“I reached about a dozen families. Some others I know have moved out of the county. I’ve got someone down in the city reachin’ out to people.” He sighs heavily and she hands him one of the confiscated waters. He cracks the top and his first sip is half of the bottle. The plastic crinkles in his hand. He opens his mouth but there’s a loud honk from the back of the building and he sighs instead. “That must be Dolls.” He pulls his hat down on his head and nods sharply. “Let’s go, Haught.”

There are nearly two dozen women who file quietly into the station, huddling together in the corners of the bullpen. They shy away when Nedley approaches them but Nicole sidles up to them easily, passing out water and bags of crackers. Nedley catches on and starts each conversation by handing over an opened water bottle, trying for a reassuring smile. Nicole takes four near-identical statements before the first family rushes into the station.

It’s easy to get lost in it the rush of it all. More families are pushing through the door and her statements are starting to blur together. She keeps looking across the room at one woman. Her eyes keep finding her, no matter what Nicole is doing. She takes a statement, gestures for a family to come back behind the counter, and that woman is suddenly in front of her, an odd look on her face.

“Hi,” Nicole says cautiously. “I’m Officer Haught.”

The woman tips her head to the side. “Eve,” she says simply.

There’s something about this woman that Nicole can’t quite put her finger on. Every other woman that Dolls and Wynonna brought in has a look of relief mixed with hesitation splashed across their face. This Eve woman is  _ blank _ . Her eyes are dark and look hollow, empty. Her lips are thin and pressed together, as if she disapproves of everything she’s seeing.

“Did the Sheriff tell you whether or not your family is coming in for you?” Nicole asks cautiously.

Eve doesn’t acknowledge her question. “We’re in Purgatory,” she says, looking around the station. 

Nicole nods. “Yes. Is there someone I can call for you?” she tries again.

Eve turns and her eyes burn right through Nicole. “I don’t know,” she says flatly. “I don’t remember.”

Nicole reaches forward slowly and touches Eve on the elbow. She guides her to her desk and sits her down in the chair next to it, squatting down to her level. “Do you have a last name? I can look you up in the system. The Sheriff just might not have gotten to you yet. He had a lot of names to go through.”

Eve blinks. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s fine,” Nicole reassures her. “You don’t have to right now.”

Eve looks past her and Nicole turns to see Wynonna arguing with Nedley, their words muffled but their voices loud. “That woman said she would take me with her.”

There’s no hesitation to her voice. Nicole frowns softly. 

“You don’t have to leave with her,” she tells Eve.

Wynonna stalks towards her desk, her face tight and drawn. “I don’t  _ care _ what your protocol is, Nedley. She’s coming with me.”

Nicole stands. She shifts so she’s standing in front of Eve. “She doesn’t need to go if she doesn’t want to.”

Eve reaches for her and presses her hand tightly to Nicole’s arm. “Officer…”

“She belongs at the homestead,” Wynonna says. She mumbles something else, something that sounds like the words  _ with family _ but they’re so soft Nicole misses them.

“W-Eve. Come on.” Wynonna snaps. “You’re coming home with me.”

Eve stands easily, sidestepping Nicole and following Wynonna dutifully out of bullpen. They fade into the crowd of families and women and Nicole loses them before they reach the front door. Nedley comes up next to her, a deep frown on his face.

“That woman…” He trails off and shakes his head. “It can’t be.”

Nicole frowns. “Can’t be what?”

Nedley doesn’t seem to hear her, though. He keeps shaking his head softly, his mouth hanging open slightly. After a long minute, he snorts to himself. “The dead can’t rise, can they?”

Nicole looks around the station slowly before she turns to Nedley. “I used to think they couldn’t,” she admits.

Nedley’s eyes are sharp when they finds hers. “And now?”

Nicole looks back at the crowd swelling inside the station. “Now I’m really not sure.”

 

-

“Have you figured it out, yet?” Her momma asks her.

Nicole stirs the near-boiling water around in the pot, watching a few bubbles come to the surface and pop. She’s making macaroni and cheese and Banjo is stretched out lazily on the kitchen table and she’s got the Johnny Cash station playing on Pandora. It’s the calmest night she’s had since she moved to Purgatory.

“Figured what out?” she asks. She decides the water is boiling enough to put the pasta in and she dumps the box. The noodles don’t look like underwater sea creatures but the cheese pack is the best part anyway.

Her momma sighs. “I don’t listen to hear myself talk, baby.” 

Nicole takes a long sip from her Moosehead Pale Ale before she answers. “Well you’re asking questions out of the blue.”

There’s a knock on her door. It’s so soft she almost misses it over the chorus of ‘I’d Rather Die Young’ and the quiet stirring of the mac and cheese noodles. She pauses, her phone in one hand and the wooden spoon in another and it happens again. She drops the wooden spoon and moves towards the door slowly.

“Have you figured out why you’re in Purgatory yet?” her momma asks a second time.

Nicole pulls her door open slowly and there’s Waverly, giving her a shy smile.

“Yeah, momma. I think I have,” she breathes out. “Hey, can I call you back? I’ve - Someone’s here?”

Her momma squeals. “Is it that girl you’ve been talkin’ about?”

“Momma, I’ll call you later,” Nicole hisses, hanging up the phone. She tosses it behind her onto the couch and turns back to Waverly with a smile. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting you.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Nicole watches the way Waverly folds in on herself, her arms wrapping tightly around her middle. “I can just-”

Nicole reaches out quickly, catching the back of Waverly’s elbows and tugging her across the threshold into her apartment. “ _ Not _ that I’m not excited to see you,” Nicole rushes to say. “I’m glad you’re here. Unexpectedly.  _ Surprisingly _ , unexpectedly.”

Waverly loosens her arms a little, letting them swing down until Nicole is holding both of her hands, still moving back into the apartment until she feels her back hit the counter top. She moves their joined hands behind her back and leaves Waverly’s hands there, resting her own on Waverly’s shoulders. She thumbs at Waverly’s neck softly and leans down to kiss her. She feels Waverly’s hands flex against her back. 

“Hi,” she breathes out as she pulls back slightly. She can feel Waverly smile against her lips. “This is a nice surprise.”

“I was on my way to the Poker Spectacular,” Waverly says. She’s still so close that everything is a whisper. “I thought I’d pop by.”

“Pop by whenever you want.” She frowns and pulls back a little further. “What is a Poker Spectacular? I keep hearing about it. Linda told me to put some real clothes on and come down but…” She smiles shyly. “I’m glad I didn’t.”

Waverly’s hands drift under the edges of her t-shirt, brushing her fingertips over Nicole’s bare hipbones. “I’m glad too,” she says softly. She pushes up on her tiptoes and her nose brushes against Nicole’s. “I’m sorry, though. That I haven’t been around much.”

Nicole smiles and tucks a loose strand of Waverly’s hair behind her ear. “I know you’ve been busy.”

Waverly bites down on her bottom lip and her eyes skate over Nicole’s shoulder to the other side of the room. “Yeah. Busy.” She unwinds herself from Nicole’s arms. 

Nicole notices the shift and she forces her hands into the pockets of the sweatpants she’s wearing so she doesn’t reach for Waverly in this moment, trying to respect the obvious boundaries she’s setting. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her middle again and her shoulders are hunched in and every fiber of Nicole’s being wants to gently unfold her and hold her tightly and tell her that she’s seen Waverly die three times now and there’s nothing Waverly could do that would scare her. Instead, she waits patiently, ducking her head to meet Waverly’s eyes and give her a soft, reassuring smile. 

“My sister is back,” Waverly blurts out after a minute.

Nicole frowns a little. “I know, Waves.”

“Not-not Wynonna. My other sister. Willa.” Waverly says her name quietly, almost whispering.

Nicole’s frown deepens. “But I thought she-”

“Us, too,” Waverly interrupts. “We… We stopped looking.” She pauses for a second. “I’m not sure I ever looked in the first place,” she says, more to herself than to Nicole. “And now she’s here. She’s back. She’s… She’s  _ home _ .”

Nicole silences the voice in her head telling her to give Waverly her space. She invades it unapologetically, hugging Waverly tight against her. She can feel Waverly stiffen for an instant before she melts, her hands dropping from between their bodies and winding their way back around Nicole’s waist. She lets her eyes close as she rests her chin on the top of Waverly’s head, inhaling the smell of her shampoo for a moment while she feels Waverly composing herself. 

“Eve,” Waverly finally says after a few minutes.

“The snake,” Nicole says.

Waverly pulls out of her arms and frowns. “What?”

Nicole gives her a quick smile. “I thought we were playing a word association game.”

The joke takes a minute to settle but eventually Waverly rolls her eyes, pretends to be annoyed, and curls up in the corner of Nicole’s couch. She pats the empty space next to her. 

Nicole looks over her shoulder at the stove. “Two seconds, okay? I’m pretty sure my macaroni and cheese is done. I just have to add the cheese.”

Waverly’s face twists in disgust. “Don’t tell me you’re eating-”

Nicole holds up the box.

“Kraft Dinner,” Waverly finishes. “That cheese sauce, is like, all sodium.”

Nicole turns the box over and scans the nutrition label. “Only, like, 300 mg of sodium,” she defends.

Waverly crosses her arms over her chest.”Per serving. And how many servings are in there?”

“...three,” Nicole says slowly.

“Exactly my point! And it’s so processed. You really should be eating foods that that will-”

Nicole crosses the living room, hooks a finger under Waverly’s chin and lifts her face up. “Baby, it’s my night off. I’ve been looking forward to this macaroni and cheese  _ all week _ . Tomorrow, you can lecture me about sodium intake and gluten-free alternatives, okay?”

Waverly’s eyes go soft. “Baby?”

“I didn’t mean to, I was just… If that’s not something you’re-”

Waverly’s hand wraps around Nicole’s, her thumb brushing across Nicole’s knuckles. “I like it,” she says softly. “But we really need to talk about what you’re eating. You can’t afford to be clogging your body with food like that.”

Nicole rolls her eyes but grins at Waverly, hoping to take the sting out it. She empties the pot of water into a sieve in the sink, straining the water before she dumps it back into the hot pot. She adds her cheese sauce and butter and milk and laughs when Waverly makes gagging noise from the couch. She puts it all in a bowl and grabs a second beer out of the fridge, offering it to Waverly before she sits down.

“So Eve?”

Waverly sighs and picks at the label on the bottle. “Eve is my sister. Willa.”

Nicole thinks back to the station, to Wynonna’s eyes clouded with tears. The harder she thinks, the more it makes sense. Wynonna had definitely said “ _ with family _ ” and Nicole can hear it plainly now when she replays the moment over in her head.

“Oh, wow,” is all she manages to say out loud.

Waverly sags into her side, her forehead pressing into the point of Nicole’s collarbone. Nicole puts down her macaroni and cheese and wraps her arms around Waverly, pulling her across her body and holding her tightly.

_ The dead can’t rise _ , Nedley had said.

_ Except when they can _ , Nicole thinks. 

 

-

The call comes through dispatch at the same time as Nicole’s phone goes off on her desk. She’s stuck in the middle of the bullpen, halfway between both of them and for a second she freezes, unsure of which way to go.

Waverly had mentioned the tension at the homestead and how it sparked every time she walked into a room where Willa was.  _ I barely remember her _ , she had told Nicole that night on her couch.  _ And Wynonna remembers her so well. They just… picked up where they left off _ .

‘ _ And left me out _ ’, she doesn’t say. Nicole had heard the words in the silence between them anyway. 

She had offered her apartment to Waverly whenever she wanted to escape the homestead - Shorty’s was out of the question now that Gus had sold it to some guy named Bobo Del Ray. That name seemed to make Waverly twitch every time she heard it and Nicole filed that thought away, pulling it out every so often and wondering why. She had told Waverly she’d always have her phone on her; just call and she would come to wherever Waverly was.

She knows that ringtone; Waverly is calling.

“We have reports of shots fired at the Earp Homestead,” the radio spits out. “Please respond.”

Linda grabs the radio before Nicole can. “Repeat that, Roy?”

Nicole feels her world shift under her feet. She grabs blindly for the counter and misses it, stumbling forward slightly before the heel of her palm slams into the top. It sends a wave of pain through her arm that echoes in her ribs for half a second as she finds her feet, rights herself, and looks desperately at Linda.

“Shots fired at the Earp Homestead. Deputy Marshal Dolls is reporting he has the scene handled but would like help with cleanup.”

Linda swears. “ _ Christ _ , Roy. You should have led with that.”

“Injuries,” Nicole says, barely getting the word past her lips. “Reported injuries?”

Linda echoes the question into the radio.

Roy takes a minute to call back. “Negative. Deputy Marshal says it’s under control.”

Nicole shakes her head and takes the ten feet from the counter to her desk in two steps, grabbing her phone and answering it quickly. “ _ Waverly _ ,” she says, her voice breaking. 

“I’m fine,” Waverly says quickly. Her voice is too high, too tight.  _ Too fake _ .

“Waverly,” Nicole repeats, an edge to her name.

“Okay. I was… I got  _ a little _ shot. But I’m fine!” she rushes to add.

Nicole slumps down, barely catching the edge of the desk as she falls. She presses her palm to her forehead and takes in a ragged breath. She tries to keep her voice down; she knows Linda is listening. “They said, Roy said shots fired. And you got  _ shot _ .”

Waverly is quiet for a moment before she answers. “Someone -  _ someones _ \- stormed the homestead. But we took care of it.”

“Why are you always in danger?” Nicole asks softly.

Waverly must not hear the question. “I called so you didn’t panic.”

“Too late,” Nicole says with a dry laugh. “I panicked.”

“Baby,” Waverly murmurs. Nicole can hear her moving on the other end of the line. She hears a door open and close and soft whine and then Waverly is back on the phone, speaking in her ear. “-promise you I’m fine. It’s just, like, a little scratch.”

“I’m coming over there,” she tells Waverly, already reaching for her keys. 

“No,” Waverly says quickly. “Don’t come here.”

Nicole pauses in the middle of pulling one arm through her coat. “You were  _ shot _ ,” she reminds Waverly. She turns around, putting her back to the counter. She can feel Linda watching her closely. 

Waverly huffs in her ear. “I don’t… Please don’t come here. Willa and Wynonna are here and they’re both, they both just- Nicole,  _ please _ ,” she tries. “I can’t let her- “ she stops sighs, obviously frustrated.

“Okay, okay,” she says, trying to calm Waverly down. “That’s fine.” She puts her keys down on her desk. “Come to me, then? I’m almost, my shift is almost over. Augustine and Marsden can head out to the homestead and I can pick up something at the grocery store and I can make you dinner and-and clean your ‘ _ little scratch’ _ and-”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Waverly says, cutting her off. “I have to just-” She stops and Nicole hears the scratch of something covering the receiver. 

She can hear Waverly, barely, speaking to someone else. “I’m fine. I’m just talking to someone. I’ll come back insi- I said I was  _ fine _ , Willa. I’ll be inside in a minute.” 

There’s a pause before Waverly is back in her ear. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “Are you sure you want me to-”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Nicole breathes out. “Please.”

When she hangs up, Linda is sitting back down at the counter, not attempting to pretend like she wasn’t trying to listen to Nicole’s conversation. “Your girl okay?”

Nicole sighs and rubs at her forehead. “She’s fine.”

Linda stares at her for a moment longer, like she doesn’t believe Nicole, but she lets it go. “You goin’ out on that call?”

“I’m gonna let Augustine and Marsden handle it. I’m just gonna go home, I think.”

Linda glares hard at her, crossing her arms over her chest. “That girl got herself shot and you’re lettin’ the goon squad go out there instead of seein’ to her yourself?” Linda pushes off her stool and takes a few heavy steps in Nicole’s direction. “Now she just got rid of that rodeo clown and she deserves someone who is gonna-”

“Make her dinner at my place and clean her wound?” Nicole finishes. She tips her head to the side, a smile on her face. “Linda, I’m offended. I was sure  _ I  _ was your favorite.”

It takes a moment before Linda is huffing loudly and reaching out to swat her on the shoulder, hard. “Dammit, girl.”

Nicole doesn’t rub at her shoulder, even though it hurts. “I’m gonna go home,” she repeats. “Waverly is going to come by in a bit.”

Linda slips back onto her stool. “That’s fine, I suppose.”

Nicole snickers and pockets her keys and her phone, turning the small lamp over her desk off. “Well, if you suppose.”

“Get out of here before I tell the Sheriff you’re leavin’ fifteen minutes early,” Linda snaps, already picking her book back up and finding the place where she was before the call came over the wire. She glances up when Nicole rounds the counter, though, and gives Nicole a soft look. “Let that girl know I’m glad she’s okay.”

Nicole raids her fridge when she gets to her apartment, sidestepping Banjo as she moves around the kitchen cutting up vegetables and making rice. She figures she can’t go wrong with stir fry, though she’s sure the soy sauce she has in her pantry has way more  _ everything _ than Waverly usually uses. It’s nearly done by the time someone knocks softly on her door. She pulls it open with a grin that fades instantly.

“Oh, uh. Sheriff.”

Nedley holds his hat in both hands in front of him. “Haught.”

Nicole chews at her bottom lip. “I swear it was only fifteen minutes early. Twenty, tops. And it won’t  _ ever _ happen again.”

Nedley frowns a little but shakes his head. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about. I’m here for somethin’ else.”

Panic seizes Nicole. “What happened? Is it- Is Waverly okay?”

Nedley’s face flushes red. “No, no. I told Linda to ask you and she told me to stop being… Well, she called me a few names she probably shouldn’t be callin’ the Sheriff and told me to do it myself.” He looks around Nicole’s shoulder. “Could I come in?”

Nicole nods at the small table in her kitchen and he takes a seat, sitting stiffly in the chair. “There’s a party comin’ up. Bobo Del Ray is throwing a thing and he’s asked for some representatives from the Sheriff’s Department. I thought about askin’ Diaz or Augustine but they look like a bunch of gorillas in tuxedos.” He scratches at the back of his head. “So I was wonderin’ if you would mind puttin’ on a dress and showing us off a little. Or a monkey suit. Whatever you feel more comfortable in,” he adds quickly. 

She tries to keep her face neutral but she feels her lips twitch briefly. “Of course I would. And, a dress is fine.”

Nedley lets out a sigh of relief. “That saves me the trouble of tryin’ to explain why Purgatory’s finest are leavin’ with all of the fancy appetizers in their pockets.”

“Oh, Sheriff Nedley,” Waverly says from the doorway.

Nicole looks up. Waverly is leaning against the doorjamb, a shy smile on her face. Nicole stands quickly, lifting her hand in an awkward wave. 

Nedley stands too. “Waverly,” he says, putting his hat back on. “I’m not here to interrupt your evenin’.” He turns back to Nicole. “I appreciate it, Haught.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Ms. Earp,” he says gruffly, tipping his hat.

Waverly waits until the door clicks shut before giving Nicole an amused smile. “What was that about?”

Nicole waves her hand at the question. “Some party that Bobo Del Ray is throwing?”

There’s a slight change to Waverly’s eyes. Nicole nearly misses it as she turns back to the stove to make sure the vegetables don’t stick to the pan. But she still sees it; they darken and narrow and there’s something Nicole would almost call worry lingering in them. By the time she turns back around after turning off the stove, reaching with one hand for Waverly’s waist, it’s gone. She ignores the feeling that Waverly is hiding something and instead soaks in the feeling of Waverly’s lips against her own. She lets her arm wind around Waverly’s waist, her thumb brushing against the sliver of skin that shows between the top of her jeans and the bottom of her tank top. 

She pulls away just to drop the spatula onto the counter and then pulls Waverly back in, nipping at her bottom lip. Her other hand presses against Waverly’s hip bone briefly before she drags it up her side.

“ _ Shitbricks _ ,” Waverly hisses, her body twisting away from Nicole’s hand.

Nicole instantly pulls her hands back and steps away to give Waverly space. “I’m so sorry. I forgot.” She pulls the stir fry pan off the stove and dumps the contents into a bowl, dropping it onto the table. She reaches for Waverly’s shoulder’s hesitantly and guides her back until she’s sitting in a kitchen chair. “Wait a second,” she mumbles, leaning down to kiss Waverly’s forehead.

It takes her a minute to pull her first aid kid out of the bathroom closet and she has to find a separate package of gauze before she heads back into the kitchen. She drops her materials to the table and kneels down in front of Waverly, resting her hand on Waverly’s knee. She smiles reassuringly.

Waverly’s hand lands on her own. “You don’t have to, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure I promised you I would make you dinner and clean this for you,” Nicole reminds her. “And I always keep my promises.”

Waverly pauses. “It does smell good.”

Nicole rocks forward a little, her fingertips brushing against the belt loop on Waverly’s jeans. “I wasn’t there,” she says softly.

Waverly frowns. “Where?”

“At the homestead. I wasn’t there to protect you.”

Waverly’s frown deepens. “What do you mean you weren’t there to protect me.” She scoffs. “It’s not like you could have done anything?” She leans in and kisses Nicole softly. “It’s not like you’re psychic.” 

“What?” Nicole asks, her voice high and pitchy. She clears her throat and shakes her head and tries again. “I mean, of course not.”

Waverly leans back, lifting the side of her shirt. “Okay,” she says softly. “Thank you. Baby,” she adds, mouth turning up in a smile. 

Nicole gently peels back a dressing that looks pretty fresh and carefully wipes at the small, angry red mark. Her eyes burn at the sight, but she keeps her hands steady and she cleans and redresses it quickly, leaning in to press her lips to the fresh gauze. When she rocks back onto her heels, Waverly’s eyes are dark and unfocused. She follows Nicole’s motion, trapping her on her knees on her kitchen floor with a kiss. Her hands are hot on Nicole’s neck and for a second she freezes before she reminds herself it’s just Waverly; she’s at home; she’s safe.

She’s safe. She kisses Waverly’s neck gently. Waverly is safe. Her hands slide to around Waverly’s wound. She’s safe. Waverly presses her back against the couch. Waverly is safe. She pulls Waverly impossibly close. She’s safe. Her shirt hits the floor noiselessly. Waverly is safe. She threads her fingers through Waverly’s loose hair.

They’re  _ safe _ .

Dinner sits on the counter and goes cold. 

 

-

She’s up too early, under-caffeinated, and underdressed for the snow that’s fallen during the night. She paces outside of Shorty’s but it’s too early for the bar to be open. Even if it was, she wouldn’t find who she’s looking for; ever since Gus sold the bar to Bobo Del Ray, the regular clientele have scattered to the far corners of Purgatory, finding other places for their 10am fix. 

She’s about to give up and head into the station, despite it being her day off, when she catches sight of a plaid shirt and dirty boots heading into the hardware store. She crosses the street without looking twice and slips in the door, barely acknowledging Tommy behind the counter.

He’s standing in the nails and screws aisle, holding up two near-identical wood screws. He turns at the sound of her boots hitting the linoleum floor and goes to give her a smile when he must see the look on her face.

“I can’t believe you,” she hisses at him.

Juan Carlos steps back a little, the screws in his hand forgotten. “Well, I’m sorry Officer Haught. But I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh,  _ screw- _ ” She stops when she looks around and notices Susan Yates staring at her from the plumbing aisle. She reins herself in, takes a deep breath, and leans in close to Juan Carlos. “Outside. Right now.”

He puts down the screws and follows her quietly. She walks out onto the sidewalk and down around the corner of the building, into the small alleyway for deliveries. As soon as he takes the turn behind her, she rounds on him, forcing him to step back into the brick foundation.

“You told me to stop messing with fate,” she says, her voice low. “And then I almost lose her and I don’t even know it’s coming?” She forces her hands deeper into her pockets so she doesn’t grab him by the collar and shake him.

“Like I said,” he starts. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

She sneers at him. “Yes you do. You think I haven’t been paying attention?” She steps in closer. “I’ve listened to all your stupid monologues about fate and predetermination and destiny and  _ paths _ .” One hand slips out of her pocket and she clenches it so tightly into a fist that she can feel her fingernails cutting into her palm. “My momma, she tried to save her daddy once. And fate stepped in and-and  _ corrected _ it. It took him away and she couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

“I-”

“You told me I picked her,” Nicole continues over him. “You told me I saved her.”

“And  _ ruined _ the fabric of the world,” he adds.

She glares at him. “Then why did she get shot. Why didn’t I see it?”

He pulls back as much as he can but it’s barely an inch. “She was what?”

Nicole growls. “She was  _ shot _ . And I didn’t know it was happening. I couldn’t stop it.” Nicole looks down at her hand, at the crescent-shaped marks left by her fingernails. “I couldn’t stop it,” she repeats quietly. She looks up at Juan Carlos. “Why couldn’t I stop it? Why didn’t I…  _ see _ it?”

Juan Carlos frowns for a moment, looking past her, before meeting her eyes again. He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t…” Nicole’s mouth hangs open. “You don’t know?”

Juan Carlos shrugs again. “I don’t know. Theoretically, if you have decided to-”

“Ruin everything,” she mumbles before he can.

“Yes,  _ that _ .” He glares at her. “If you had decided to save her, then a proper course correction would have been…” He frowns, looking away from her again, over her shoulder and off into the distance. His mouth twists into a humorless smile. “Well, she would have died. Did she die?”

Nicole feels her eyes widen in fear before she can stop herself. “ _ No _ . She didn’t die. She’s alive. She just… The bullet grazed her.”

“Interesting,” Juan Carlos says softly, more to himself than out loud.

Nicole feels a rush of anger swell in her chest and it takes everything in her not to press him up against the brick until he tells her what she wants to know. “Interesting,” she repeats, her teeth locked tightly together.

“Yes, interesting.” He meets Nicole’s eyes. “If fate was truly trying to get itself back on the path it laid out, she would have died. Instead, she was injured. How… interesting.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“I’m not sure what else to tell you,” he admits. Juan Carlos steps forward, pushing her back. He moves around her, back out onto the sidewalk. Late morning foot traffic swells around him. Nicole follows him, struggling to keep up with him. He stops in front of the hardware store and turns back to face her, confusion on his face for a moment longer before he shakes it off and stares right at her.

“Remember, Nicole. A life for a life,” he reminds her. “If you want to continue to save her, you can. But it comes with a price.”

He leaves her standing on the sidewalk with more questions than before.

 

-

“So this is the homestead.”

Waverly nervously pulls at the tassel on a pillow from the couch. “It’s not much. I’ve tried, like, fifteen times to make it…  _ something _ , but every time I do-”

“Demon strippers,” Nicole mutters.

Waverly pauses. “What?”

Nicole shakes her head. “Nothing. I like it. I can see pieces of you.” She picks up a throw pillow and frowns at it. “But not this.”

Waverly snorts. “Willa picked that out.”

Nicole puts it down gently. She’s met Willa - as Willa - once, and the whole thing left a bad taste in her mouth. Willa was short with her, curt and cold. Waverly had apologized a hundred times.  _ She spent half of her life in a commune. She doesn’t know how to talk to people _ .  _ She talks to me like that, too _ , Waverly had joked.

Nicole hadn’t laughed at that.

“You like it?” Waverly asks, breaking Nicole from her thoughts.

Nicole glances around the room, listening for incoming footsteps, and reaches out to wrap her fingers around Waverly’s elbow. She tugs her close, their hips bumping, and threads a hand through her hair, tilting her head back until she can lean down and press a kiss to Waverly’s lips. “I like it,” she mumbles against her mouth.

She feels Waverly smile. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Nicole mutters, kissing Waverly again.

There’s footsteps coming down the stairs and Waverly steps back, dropping the pillow in her hands back onto the couch. Nicole swallows an instant rush of hurt that threatens to push through her chest. Instead she reaches for the plastic bag of first aid supplies she had put down on the end table and nods towards the kitchen.

“I brought the stuff,” she says. “Want me to change your dressing?”

Waverly’s eyes soften and she nods, leading Nicole to the kitchen. She sits in a chair opposite of Nicole, tucking her hair behind her shoulder blade as she lifts her shirt enough that Nicole can see the small mark on Waverly’s side. It looks good, clean and dry and scabbing. She peels the whole bandage off and rolls it up tightly before throwing it into her plastic bag. She opens a fresh piece of gauze and squeezes some ointment into the center of it. 

Willa comes around the corner into the kitchen. Her face is blank but Nicole swears she sees a flash of frustration as she notices them at the kitchen table. Her eyes drift to Nicole’s hands and the irritation flashes again.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Willa asks. “That stuff is poison.”

“I’ve been dressing her wound for the past two days,” Nicole says, feeling small. Waverly’s gaze drops to the floor.

Willa crouches down next to Waverly, twisting the cap off a small, white container. “Yeah, and I’ve been redressing it.”

Nicole looks up quickly at Waverly. Waverly gives her a soft smile and turns her attention back to Willa.

“Coconut oil,” Willa is saying. “We used it on everything at the commune.” She looks back over her shoulder at Nicole. “You know, you don’t have to be here every time. I know what I’m doing. “

“Oh, yeah,” Nicole scoffs.

“Uh, hey,” Waverly cuts in softly, her eyes pleading with Nicole to back down, just for now. “Why don’t you just…  _ pop out _ and I’ll talk to you later?”

Every part of Nicole is telling her to say ‘no’ and stay here in the kitchen, to stay close to Waverly. There’s something about Willa Nicole just doesn’t trust. Her eyes are too cold, too calculating. She hovers too closely. It’s nothing concrete, nothing she can prove, but the feeling lives in her gut and rears its head every time Willa snaps at Waverly.

Nicole pushes down the urge to roll her eyes, just barely, and pushes back from the table instead. “Sure. I’ll just…  _ pop out _ ,” she echoes.

She heads for the barn instead, tapping out a quick message to Waverly. She knows Henry -  _ Doc _ \- has been staying in there some nights, buts it’s empty now and she takes a seat on one of the bales of hay stacked against the side wall. She tries not to think about the way Willa crouched down in front of her, edging her out from Waverly’s personal space. Instead, she opens her texts again and fires off a text to her momma, just to say hi. She Snapchats her brother. She’s halfway into a game she downloaded a few days ago when the barn door cracks open and Waverly slip inside.

Waverly pauses in front of a stack of hay with a blanket over it, hoisting herself up onto it and staring out on front of her. Nicole pockets her phone and waits, watching Waverly’s profile quietly. Her chin barely wobbles but Nicole can see it.

“I’m exhausted,” Waverly admits.

“Hey,” she murmurs. Nicole pushes off her makeshift seat, crawling up behind Waverly until she’s sitting next to her. She reaches for Waverly’s hair and tucks it behind her ear, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck, right where she remembers a bullet striking. Waverly moves away from her, pulling out of Nicole’s reach. Nicole looks up. “I know, baby,” she says quietly. This time she brushes Waverly’s hair away and kisses behind her ear. She can feel Waverly’s pulse beating wildly under her lips.

Waverly twists, her eyes closed, blindly finding Nicole’s mouth. Her hands go to Nicole’s jawline, pulling her in just so. She presses her hands to Waverly’s back, trying to get her as close as possible, to tell her with her fingers and her tongue that she’s here, she can ground Waverly, she can keep her steady and  _ alive _ .

Waverly’s hands drop to the bottom of her sweater and pull up. Nicole lets her sweater come over her head and doesn’t wait until it’s on the floor before she’s grabbing for Waverly’s tugging it up and up and over. Waverly’s mouth is hot and insistent, following every ebb and flow up and down as Nicole struggles to find a place to put her hands. She slides them across every inch of skin Waverly gives her, delicately scratching them along Waverly’s side, reminding herself that they’re safe. Waverly’s hands skip along her ribcage and it doesn’t hurt.

The world slows to a crawl as she leans in to kiss Waverly again. The light streaming in through the holes in the barn fade. The world tilts slightly and she’s in the station now, staring at a different Waverly, a seafoam blue dress fitted to her body, backed up against a counter.

_ “When are you going to take responsibility for all that you’ve done!”  _ someone shouts. 

The gray mist from before swirls in front of her eyes. Nicole tries to push it out of the way but her hands go through it. She can see Waverly, though, in that dress, fear in her eyes. Wynonna is clear too, her holster and hands empty. 

_ “Why did Bobo save you at the homestead? _ ” Wynonna asks. “ _ Why did you save him? _ ”

_ “I’m running out of goddamn time, _ ” someone shouts from behind the gray clouds.

As the mist moves, Nicole can see the barrel of a gun, poking through the dense fog. It swings between Wynonna and Waverly. 

_ “Nobody's getting hurt on my watch _ ,” Wynonna says tightly. 

The person holding the gun laughs, a hollow, angry sound that Nicole feels in the pit in her stomach. She tries to move forward as the gun swings back towards Waverly and lingers there. 

“ _ Nobody else, you mean _ ,” the voice answers.

Nicole watches the muscles in Wynonna’s jaw twitch. “ _ I’m coming for you _ ,” she promises.  
  
There’s a moment of silence that settles in the pit of Nicole’s stomach.

_ “Then I better slow you down _ ,” the person says softly.

A phone rings.

The gun flashes, a bright red spark in the muted whirling cloud. Nicole looks for the target a second too late and only sees Waverly stagger back against the counter, crimson bleeding into the neckline of her dress. Wynonna rushes towards her, catching Waverly as she slides down against the counter, gasping for air. She presses her hand to Waverly’s neck.

_ “No, no, no _ ,” she mumbles.  _ “No, baby girl. No, please _ .”

Nicole gasps into Waverly’s mouth, back in the barn again. Her eyes open and she sees Willa in the doorway of the barn, staring intently at them.

“ _ Shit _ ,” she hisses, reaching for her discarded shirt. She sees Waverly pick her own up, holding it to her chest. 

“Oh, my god,” Waverly mumbles.

“I’m sorry,” Willa says flatly. Her face twitches in confusion. “Wynonna never said anything about you being a… a  _ gay _ .” 

Nicole looks at Waverly but all she can see is a river of blood flowing from her neck, from the spot Nicole had just pressed her lips to. She knows Willa is still speaking but all she can hear is Wynonna screaming  _  “no” _ over and over in her mind. She shakes her head and pushes off the hay bale, pulling her sweater with her.

“I have to go,” she mutters, not seeing the spark of fear in Waverly’s eyes. “Call me later,” she says distractedly, her shoulder brushing Willa’s as she hurries out of the barn and into the sunlight. The cold air burns her lungs and she sucks as much of it in as she can, welcoming the ache. She presses the heel of her palm against her chest and her other hand to her neck, trying to take her pulse; trying to calm her body down; trying not to hear the dull thud of Waverly’s body hitting the floor.

When she pulls her hand back, she swears she sees red.


	9. ix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God bless betas and their steadfastness and their willingness to pull you through your shit and their ability to remind you to use words like 'foam' instead of 'bubble' and their just overall capability to be the absolute best. 
> 
> One chapter to go, folks. One chapter to go.

Everything changes the third month of the academy.

Erica, her usual go-to partner for group projects, leans over during their Criminal Law seminar and slips a note under Nicole’s hand, asking if she wants to go out with a few people and celebrate making it to the halfway point in training. “It’ll be fun,” Erica tells her later, as they head down the street towards the small sandwich shop Nicole likes - they have the best grilled cheese. “And _Alexa_ will be there.”

Nicole says maybe, at first. In the end, her momma convinces her to go; tells her it’ll be good for her to get out and think about something other than policing for a night; to make some friends. She tries to argue with her momma and tell her she has friends and she’s _focused_ , not narrow-minded.

She comes up with a hundred excuses, and then her momma tells her she’s going; she saw it. And Nicole can’t argue with that.

_You can’t change what the world has decided has to happen._

She finds Erica and a few other people from the academy out at a bar downtown. She recognizes most of them: Alexa, Robbie, Carmen, Troy, Derric, and Chris. Alexa leans over the table they’ve taken up in the corner of the bar near the pool tables and introduces her to Patrick, a friend of Chris’s. She’s seen him before but he’s always in the back of the room, slumped down behind his workbooks, ignoring their presenters.

“Call me ‘Biff’,” he shouts over the music pumping out of the speaker setup in the opposite corner.

“Biff? That’s really what you’re going with?”

He grins widely at her. “What?”

She shakes her head and lifts her beer glass in his direction and it seems to satisfy him enough. He lifts his own glass and goes back to his conversation with Derric. Nicole sips her beer and lets Alexa and Robbie talk through her, ranking programs across the country. She mentions Calgary, but keeps Purgatory to herself, worried about the reaction she’d get. She doesn’t want to be Nicole Haught, recruited by the smallest, weirdest town in Canada.

She gets roped into a game of pool and loses more than she can afford to Troy, winning it back from Chris. By her third beer, she can admit she’s having a good time. She blushes when Alexa throws a long arm across her shoulders, presses a sloppy kiss to her cheek, and tells her she’s so happy she came out for the night. Erica makes ‘ _I told you so_ ’ faces at her from across the table.

It’s not the best night of her life, but it’s not anywhere close to the worst.

They pile out of the bar before last call, shouting over each other about where to go next. Erica, Derric, and Chris wave them off and head home. Nicole laughs into Alexa’s neck while Troy and Biff take turns naming off different bars that stay open late. Carmen suggests bowling. Nicole is swaying softly, a pleasant buzz in her body. She steps off the curb as they cross the street but stops short, pulling at Alexa.

There’s a group of people in the street and two guys standing away from them, circling each other, pausing every so often to throw a few words back and forth. Every bar on the street is emptying now, and downtown is busy on a Friday night. Nicole pulls at Alexa’s arm again, trying to steer her back onto the sidewalk. Robbie and Troy and Biff stop, staring at the two guys for a second before they understand what they’re looking at.

“We should break that up,” Biff says. He takes a step off the sidewalk.

Nicole subconsciously steps towards him, Alexa moving with her, blocking him. “No, we should call the police.”

Biff puffs his chest out and jabs his thumb into it. “We _are_ the police.”

Alexa snorts. “Not yet we aren’t.” She doesn’t unwind herself from Nicole, but somehow manages to find her phone and unlock it. Nicole watches her fingers hover over the phone app.

Biff slaps his palm against his chest. “We can totally handle this right? Robbie, come on, man.”

“Oh my _god_ , Biff,” Alexa drags out. “I'll call the cops and we’ll go home.” She flashes Nicole a quick smile.

Troy steps away from them a little, forcing his hands into his pockets. His shoulders hunch. “Dude, the girls are right.”

Alexa twists in Nicole’s arms and presses her back to Nicole’s front. She opens her keypad and taps in “9” and pauses. “What is he doing?”

Robbie jumps off the sidewalk and lands in front of Biff. He gives Biff a wide, friendly grin. “Hey, man. Let’s just go, okay?” He holds his hands out in front of him, a non-threatening gesture.

Biff looks past Robbie at the two men in the street. The crowd is growing slightly, jostling around and forming a disjointed circle. One man steps forward, his fists clenched, and the other backs up a few feet. Biff points. “This is totally a job for us.”

“We’ve been drinking,” Nicole reminds him. “And we’re not the Avengers.” She reluctantly untangles herself from Alexa as Alexa finishes dialing the police. Nicole steps up next to Robbie, forming a makeshift block in front of Biff. She can see the look in his eyes, the cloud of alcohol and the determination. “And we get involved and we’re intoxicated? We’ll be out of the academy like that.” She snaps her fingers. It gets Biff’s attention at least. He scowls at her. “Biff, come on.”

He seems to consider her for a moment before he lets out a disappointed sigh. “Fine, fine. But you guys are all a bunch of girls.”

Nicole narrows her eyes. “Well, yes. Some of us are.”

Alexa laughs, light and pretty in her ear and Nicole breathes out easily, moving away from Biff and clapping Robbie down on the shoulder. They’re all stepping back up onto the sidewalk and Troy is suggesting a billiards club where he knows the guy at the door when the crowd starts shouting. Nicole turns back just as the one of the men takes a swing at the other. It catches the second guy in the face and his neck snaps back at an angle that makes Nicole wince.

Robbie groans and Nicole looks up ahead of them. Biff is crossing back into the road, his jaw square and tight. Nicole waits a beat, to see if Robbie or Troy is going to go after him, but they just shake their heads at Biff. Nicole huffs and unwinds herself from Alexa again, squeezing her hand softly in apology, and jogs a few feet to catch Biff by the shoulder. The world spins slightly; she remembers she’s tipsy as her stomach lurches.

“Police are on the way,” Alexa calls after her.

She puts herself in front of Biff. “Hear that? The _actual_ police are on their way. So let's go. Troy is gonna call ahead and get us a table at this billiards place.”

Biff shakes his head. “I'm gonna go stop that.” He locks eyes with her. “That's what we do. _Maintain the right_ ,” he quotes.

Nicole shakes her head. “You're drunk. Let the police handle it.”

“But we _are_ the police,” Biff argues.

“In _training_ ,” she reminds him.

His shoulder knocks hers as he pushes past her. She spins and gets in front of him again. The crowd behind them is louder; they're closer and the fight is heating up. She can almost hear everything the two men are shouting at each other and suddenly feels very sorry for a woman named Beth, even if she doesn't know who she is.

“Stop being an idiot,” she growls at him. She pushes him back a step, shoving at his shoulders. She looks at Robbie and Troy. “Can you guys help me with this?”

Robbie shrugs. “He's gonna do what he wants.”

Nicole grits her teeth and moves in front of Biff when he tries to sidestep her. “Patrick, let’s _go.”_ She grabs the front of his shirt and shakes him a little.

The crowd is even louder now. She can hear the sound of flesh on flesh and knows that punches are being thrown behind her. She ignores it all, focusing her attention on Biff and trying to get him back to the group.

He narrows his eyes at her for a second before he smirks and easily twists out of her hold. He crosses his arms over his chest, the movements lazy. “Fine, fine. Go be a _girl_ and I’ll take care of this.”

She ignores him and tries one more time to get in his way, to edge him back towards Alexa, Robbie, and Troy on the sidewalk. He fakes left and she’s just a few too many beers in to see him spin back to the right and get around her. She throws her hands up in the air in defeat and finds Alexa’s eyes across the road, shaking her head.

She takes two steps.

Someone screams. When she gives her statement later, she remembers it being Alexa. Alexa screams and then someone else behind her, someone in the crowd, screams, too. Another voice, deep and low and hurried, shouts ‘ _gun!”_

There’s a _pop_ and more screaming. She turns too late; she turns just as Biff stumbles back. His face is twisted in pain and confusion. He stares down at his body, his hand going just above his bellybutton. Nicole tries to get to him but the crowd is scattering, everyone running in different directions. She watches him stumble back another step and then he disappears below the crowd. She pushes someone out of her way, shoulders through somebody else. It feels like she’s underwater, like this is the start of a vision, but she’s just moving against the crowd, trying to find Biff.

She hears Alexa scream again. She hears her “ _Nicole!”_ and she ignores it, shoving someone else out of her way. She finds Biff on the ground, his body already limp, his eyes dimming. She grabs the front of his shirt, the material still twisted from her fingers a minute ago. She grabs and she pulls, lifting his shoulder off the ground.

“Biff,” she hisses. “No. No, no. Don’t.”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out the first time. He swallows heavily and grits his teeth. “Shit.”

Nicole looks up to try and find someone in the crowd. She can hear sirens in the distance but she’s not sure they’re close enough. She fumbles in her pocket for her phone, pulling Biff’s head to rest on her knees. “I have to call an ambulance.”

Biff starts to shake and Nicole drops her phone. He grabs her hand and squeezes it tight.

“Police are coming,” she promises him.

“We are police,” he gasps.

“Stop talking.” She looks up again and the crowd is thinning. She thinks she can see Robbie pushing her way. “They’re on their way.”

_‘Shit_ ,” he hisses again. His teeth chatter. “Assess the situation, huh? Be-be physically prepared.”

“You’re gonna learn the damn handbook,” she promises him. “I’m going to have you reciting regulations in your sleep.”

He opens his mouth but he chokes and closes it, his body twitching once. He blinks rapidly, his eyes darting across her face.

“Patrick, come on,” she begs.

His mouth opens again but his jaw goes slack. His eyes go still, unblinking and staring up at her.

She grabs his shirt again and tries to sit him up but he’s so heavy, all of his weight resisting her fingertips. Robbie skids to a stop by her side, dropping to his knees and pulling at Biff’s shoulders.

She lets him take Biff, sits back on her feet and stares down at her hands. Alexa grabs her from behind, pulling her to her feet, pulling her away from Biff and Robbie as Troy reaches them. They lay Biff back down, checking for a pulse, starting chest compressions. Nicole wants to tell them to stop, that it’s too late, but her words are stuck in her throat.

The next few hours are a blur: she gives a statement ( _“There was a fight. I don’t know who the two guys were. Biff-Patrick, I mean. Patrick wanted to break it up. We tried to… We tried to… I tried.”)_ ; she slips away from everyone else and she calls her momma to come pick her up; she sits in the front seat of the same car her momma has always driven and feels as numb as she did the day her momma told her that her daddy was leaving them; she crawls into bed and stares at the shadows on the ceiling, ignoring her phone ( _Alexa sends eighteen texts that go unanswered, Robbie calls her a few times, and even Erica tries to get in touch with her_ ); she lets her momma slip into bed with her and hold her ( _“Oh, baby. Oh, my baby. I’m so sorry, baby.”_ )

She sits down the next morning and reads her copy of the Canadian Police College Regulations until the words blur on the page and the sun has set and come back up again. The news is on in the living room and Patrick Kenney, rising police recruit, is the top story of every hour. It takes until Sunday night but they track down the shooter and her CO sends out an email, giving her a week off - without retribution.

She lays in bed that night, staring at the ceiling again, until the light shifts and she feels herself floating. The ticking of her alarm clock slows and fades and then she’s back standing in the locker room at the academy, watching herself pull self-consciously at her uniform.

_“Haught_ ,” her CO is saying behind her. “ _I thought I-”_

She blinks and she’s back in her room, staring at the shapes the streetlights make on her ceiling.

On Monday morning, she’s in her uniform, checking her reflection in the mirror. She tugs self-consciously at her shirt, readjusting and pulling her shirt back out before she tucks it in again.

“Haught,” her CO snaps. “I thought I-”

“With all due respect, sir,” she starts. She catches a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror on the inside of her locker. “I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

 

-

Even before she leaves the driveway, Nicole is mad at herself for leaving Waverly alone with Willa.

She’s mad but she knows she shouldn’t go back. Willa had been right about one thing: Wynonna _doesn’t_ know. Nicole is in no rush for her to find out that way, either. Waverly had told her why in between kisses in the station while Wynonna was talking to Deputy Marshal Dolls: she wants to tell her sister on her own terms, in her own time, and Nicole can respect that. She does respect that.

Nicole doesn’t know Willa, but something tells her that Willa _won’t_ respect that, that she’ll use this against Waverly. It makes Nicole’s stomach turn. She flexes her hands against the steering wheel and flinches when she sees red until she realizes they’re just raw from the cold. She tries to calm her breathing down and closes her eyes but all she sees is Waverly staggering backwards against the counter, her hands coming up but never quite reaching her neck. She opens them quickly and gasps, jerking the wheel just as she’s about to slip into a ditch and she hits the brakes. She leans her forehead down against the cool leather steering wheel and pants softly.

_No, no, no_ she hears Wynonna screaming.

Her head feels heavy, like the grey mist had snuck inside and lingered there. She tries a breathing exercise, but quits before she counts to five and exhales noisily instead. She grips the steering wheel until her hands go from red to white. It helps a little. She fishes around the passenger seat for her phone and unlocks it, opening her messages. Waverly’s conversation is at the top, a small red heart next to her name.

**Nicole** _[14:37:08]: I’m sorry for leaving so quickly_

**Nicole** _[14:37:23] I kind of panicked_

**Nicole** _[14:37:49] Not because of you, though_

She puts her head back down against the steering wheel again and sighs. She used to be smooth when it came to talking to girls. She used to be charming and funny and never sent midday text messages that apologized for running from half-naked women.

Waverly Earp has ruined her.

A car rumbles by and startles her. She cranks the heat and holds her hands in front of the vents, trying to warm herself up. Her body still hums with unspent energy and she shivers even as the hot air blows at her. She shakes her head and gets back on the road. She doesn’t remember the drive back, but she pulls into the parking lot in front of her apartment in one piece. She turns off her car and reaches for her phone again, heart fluttering slightly at Waverly’s name on the screen.

**Waverly** _[14:46:02]: I miss you already_

Nicole climbs the stairs and lets herself into the apartment, scratching Banjo behind the ears as she turns on lights and checks the rooms. It’s a force of habit now, after Jack, to sweep her apartment. She’s never been afraid of the things that go bump in the night; things in the light of day were always much scarier. Her apartment is empty, though; just Banjo and last night’s empties on the counter.

**Nicole** _[14:52:46]: Are you okay?_

Banjo purrs and rubs up under her arm. Her phone beeps where she left it next to her keys by the door but she pulls her sweater over her head, ignoring the feeling of Waverly’s hands ghosting along her ribs. She trades it in for a new sweatshirt, one of Nathan’s that she stole back in high school, and grabs her phone before curling up on the couch.

**Waverly** _[14:53:32]: I’m fine. Willa was just being Willa._

Nicole frowns.

**Nicole** _[14:55:09]: What, mean?_

She resists the urge to follow it up with an apology. Something about Willa gets under her skin and lingers, like the stinger of a wasp. It’s obvious Wynonna is happy to have her older sister home, but Waverly doesn’t like to talk about her at all. Nicole likes to think her instincts are sharp. More than just visions, she’s always had good instincts. And something about Waverly’s distance from Willa, something about the way Waverly’s eyes dull when Willa is around, makes Nicole’s instinct tell her to grab Waverly and run.

Wynonna’s voice is back in her head. _No, no, no_.

**Waverly** _[14:56:54]: She’s just adjusting to being around people again_

**Nicole** _[14:57:22]: Okay_

It’s _not_ okay, but she trusts Waverly to tell her if and when she needs help. So instead of calling Waverly out on it, she turns on the TV and loads her Netflix profile, cueing up the next episode of Longmire. Banjo bumps the top of her head against Nicole’s chin and then curls up between her knees and her chest.

**Waverly** _[14:58:56]: What’re you doing?_

**Nicole** _[14:59:32]: Starting an episode of Longmire_

**Waverly** _[14:50:45]: Ooooo Longmire ;)_

Nicole rolls her eyes and is about to type back a defense for the teasing she knows is coming when her phone rings and Waverly is calling. She frowns at her phone but accepts the call and is only a little surprised when she realizes it’s a video call and Waverly is smiling prettily at her from the small screen.

“Longmire,” Waverly repeats.

Nicole rolls her eyes again. “I told you,” she starts.

“That you watch for the plot, right,” Waverly finishes.

Banjo pushes against her hand and the phone slips for a second so that Waverly is looking at the ceiling. She rights it and rests it on her knees, leaning back against the cushions. “I watch it for research,” she defends.

“Research on what? Pretty women with guns?”

Nicole sputters slightly. “ _No_ . On… On being a Sheriff in a small town,” she finally manages. “I’ve _told_ you this. And they don’t all use guns,” she adds hastily.

Waverly grins. “Excuse me, _gun-adjacent_ then.” She throws her head back, laughing. Nicole follows the curve of her neck on screen. In this lighting, through the pixelated image, she can barely see the faint line the rope left on her near-perfect skin.

“Seriously,” Nicole insists.

“ _Sure_ ,” Waverly drags out. “And I’m sure Katie Sackhoff and Cassidy Freeman have _nothing_ to do with it.”

Nicole feels her cheeks flush red even as she tries to ignore Waverly’s teasing. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Right,” Waverly continues. “And Tamara Duarte definitely has no bearing on how addicted to this show you are.”

Nicole pauses for a second, biting on her bottom lip before she smiles a little. “Well, you know how I like my brunettes…”

Waverly pulls back a little from the screen, her mouth dropping in exaggerated shock. “ _No_. Is that why you hang around so much? Because you’re secretly into Wynonna. I mean, she is a brunette.”

Nicole looks away thoughtfully, counting to five before she shrugs and looks back at the screen. Waverly is frowning slightly at her. She shrugs again. “I mean, she’s more _auburn_ than brunette, but she’ll do. Think she’s into me?”

Something flashes across Waverly’s face and Nicole almost misses it. It takes a second for it to register as being something like fear, like she’s a consolation prize - again -  and Nicole thinks back to Waverly telling her about when she was younger, when Wynonna would pick Willa every time; just like Chrissy picking Steph; like Champ picking every other girl over her.

She immediately gives Waverly a soft smile. “I’m just teasing, baby,” she says. “ _You’re_ the one I’m into. Though, it’s not much of a secret, I hope.”

“Not to me,” Waverly says quietly, that look on her face fading into a smile.

“That’s all that matters, then,” Nicole says just as softly.

They stare at each other for a little while until Waverly’s cheeks flush pink and she looks away.

“Stop,” she mutters. She’s smiling though.

“Stop what?”

“Staring at me like that.”

Nicole tips her head to the side, her eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

“Like…” Waverly shrugs. “Like you’d do anything for me.”

Nicole swallows the sudden lump in her throat. “I would,” she says quietly.

The silence stretches between them but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s soft and calm and Nicole lets herself relax, just for a minute. Wynonna’s voice in her head fades, the heaviness in her head dissipates, and she almost forgets Waverly’s hands reaching for her neck and falling instead. All she thinks about is Waverly Earp, smiling at her through a phone screen.

“How’s your episode?” Waverly asks, finally breaking the silence.

Nicole looks up and frowns a little. She didn’t actually remember that the episode was running. She shrugs at Waverly. “I’m not sure.”

Waverly instantly starts to pull back. “Oh, gosh. You’ve been talking to me which is why you’re not watching. I shouldn’t have called. I know you said you were turning it on and I just-”

“Baby,” Nicole says calmly.

“Knew that I would end up talking your ear off. I just really didn’t want you to leave and-”

“Waves,” Nicole tries again.

“You have your own life and you don’t need to be so caught in my crazy. You have your own crazy going on I’m sure and oh god, I never asked if-”

“ _Waverly_ ,” Nicole says loudly.

Waverly’s mouth closes with an audible snap. Her cheeks go pink again. “Sorry. I get rambly when-” She closes her mouth again when Nicole makes a face at her.

“I just want to tell you that you’re not interrupting me,” Nicole says slowly. “I can watch Longmire whenever. Power of Netflix and all that.”

Waverly smiles and nods. “Right. Of course.”

“I’d rather talk to you anytime,” Nicole continues.

Waverly is quiet for a moment. “Me, too.”

Nicole rubs along Banjo’s spine, pulling some extra hair off her tail. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Waverly adjusts on the screen, moving around. Nicole gets a glimpse of a room she doesn’t recognize and assumes it must be Waverly’s. She’s been in the homestead before, but the living room was as far as she got. If she listens hard enough, just past the sound of Waverly breathing and slight creaking of the bed as Waverly shifts around, she thinks she might be able to hear voices - Wynonna, definitely.

“I’m fine,” Waverly says with a sigh. “Well. Not _fine_ , but okay.”

“I didn’t mean to just… leave.”

Waverly is shaking her head before she finishes speaking. “No, it’s… It’s probably better that way. Willa can be…” Waverly trails off and scrunches her nose up as she tries to come up with the right word. “She can be difficult.”

Nicole takes that in. “Did she make it… difficult for you?"

Even through the screen, Nicole can see Waverly’s eyes start to well up. She feels her heart clench inside her chest and it feels like all the air goes out of her lungs. _Yes_ , she thinks to herself. _Willa made it difficult_. She feels her body lifting off the couch before she can stop herself. Waverly’s eyes go wide.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m coming over,” Nicole says decisively. “I don’t care if she’s mean to me. But it’s _not_ okay for her to be like that with you and-”

“Sit down,” Waverly says sharply.

Nicole drops back down onto the couch. Banjo hisses and scurries across the room.

Waverly’s face softens. “It’s very… _sweet_ of you. To want to protect me. But I can do it on my own.”

Nicole tips her head to the side. “Of course you can. You just don’t _have_ to do it on your own.”

That quick flash of surprise on Waverly’s face doesn’t escape Nicole’s notice. She smiles softly at Waverly.

“You’re doing it again,” Waverly says quietly.

“What?”

“ _Looking at me_.”

Nicole grins. “ _Looking_ at you?”

“Nicole,” Waverly groans. “Stop.”

Nicole puts a hand up in front of her in surrender. “Fine, fine,” she agrees. “I’ll stop _looking_ at you. And I guess, since you asked so nicely, that I’ll stay here. In my empty apartment.”

“Banjo is there,” Waverly reminds her.

“With Banjo,” Nicole agrees. “But still pretty much alone. Wishin’ I was with you instead.”

Waverly rolls her eyes, but Nicole can see her start to blush. She opens her mouth to say something, but her head turns to look at something Nicole can’t see. There’s a heavy pounding noise and then a door opening.

“Hey, baby girl. We’re gonna do Chinese for dinner,” Wynonna says. Her voice sounds so far away. “Willa hasn’t had it in, like, ever. Want me to order some sweet and sour soup for you? I think we have a jar of peanut butter somewhere so you can do that weird thing you do and put some in your soup.”

Nicole stifles a laugh. She sees Waverly’s eyes cut back to her and then go to Wynonna, probably standing in the doorway.

“We have peanut butter because I bought it,” Waverly reminds Wynonna. “But soup would be nice.”

There’s a pause and then Nicole hears Wynonna speak up again.

“Are you going to eat with us?”

Nicole watches Waverly’s face closely. “I can just eat up here,” she says politely.

She hears Wynonna sigh. “Waves.”

Waverly shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m…” She lifts the phone and Nicole stares at Waverly’s forehead and the wallpaper behind her bed before Waverly puts the phone back to where it was and she’s looking at Waverly’s face again. “I’m talking to Nicole.”

Wynonna is quiet again for a second. “Oh. Well, tell her I said hey.”

“Hi, Wynonna,” Nicole says quietly.

Waverly smiles softly down at her phone. “She says hi,” she says to Wynonna.

Nicole can hear the door close and then Waverly is letting out a long sigh, her eyes closing as she rests her head back against the pillow.

“Sweet and sour soup with peanut butter,” Nicole finally manages to say.

Waverly groans. “It’s good!”

Nicole makes a face. “It sounds…”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Waverly warns.

“ _Delicious_ ,” Nicole finishes. “Of course.”

Waverly smiles widely at her and sighs. “I should go eat with them, right?”

Nicole shakes her head. “You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to do, baby.”

Waverly is quiet again, looking away from the camera. “I should,” she says. She leans forward into the camera. “And you should get back to your… _research_.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “I told you-”

Waverly hums dismissively. The background changes as she stands up and walks across her room. It makes Nicole a little dizzy. A door opens and Waverly smiles down at her. “I’ll call you later?”

“Please,” Nicole says. “And if you want to skip the call and just come over, you can do that, too.”

Waverly smiles gratefully. “Thanks, baby.” She wiggles her fingers and then the call ends with three beeps, Nicole’s screen going black.

She drops her phone on the cushion next to her and sighs, falling back against the cushion behind her. She coos until Banjo slinks back over and curls up next to her, seeking out of the warmth of her phone. She has to go back to the home menu in Netflix and restart the show.

Her phone beeps a few minutes into her show. Banjo opens one eye, annoyed, and Nicole fishes for it under her fur.

**Waverly** _[15:07:21]: For the record, you can look at me whenever you want_

**Nicole** _[15:07:54]: Don’t worry, I will_

 

-

“What about this one?” Nicole asks. She holds the blue long-sleeved dress up in front of her body. Her reflection in her full-length mirror frowns back at her. It’s pretty, for sure, but the hemline isn’t exactly ‘Impressing the Town Locals’ appropriate. She turns, looking for an answer anyway.

Banjo just keeps licking her paw.

Nicole huffs and throws the dress in the ‘No’ pile at the end of her bed. She’s already been through a red strapless dress, a sleeveless black dress, a floral print dress she forgot she owned, and now the blue dress. Her phone goes off somewhere under the pile and it takes her nearly two minutes before she finds it.

**Waverly** _[18:12:00]: What’re you wearing?_

**Waverly** _[18:12:10]: Oh, god. I didn’t mean it like that_

**Waverly** _[18:12:25]: I meant what are you wearing to the party?_

**Waverly** _[18:12:43]: I didn’t mean it in a sexy way_

**Waverly** _[18:12:58]: Not that you’re not sexy because you are!_

Nicole snorts out loud and starts typing back before Waverly sends another message.

**Nicole** _[18:13:14]: Waves, I got it_

**Nicole** _[18:13:35]: And I can’t figure out what to wear_

**Waverly** _[18:13:58]: You’ll look good in whatever you pick_

**Nicole** _[18:14:53]: I want to make a good impression. Nedley is counting on me_

**Waverly** _[18:15:32]: You’re not going to let him down, baby_

**Nicole** _[18:16:10]: If I can’t figure out a dress, I guess I have nice pants. He seemed really insistent that I could wear a suit, if I wanted_

Waverly doesn’t text back right away and Nicole sighs, tossing her phone back on the bed and going to her closet once more. She moves hanger and hanger, but it’s still the same as when she looked a minute ago. She finally reaches the back of her closet and her hand slips against one of her winter coats, dislodging it. She frowns. Behind it there’s another dress she forgot about. She pulls it out as her phone goes off again.

**Waverly** _[18:18:54]: ...Sorry. I’m picturing you in a suit_

**Nicole** _[18:19:32]: Not to burst your bubble but I think I found one_

**Waverly** _[18:19:49]: So no suit?_

**Nicole** _[18:20:11]: Not this time_

**Waverly** _[18:20:35]: :(_

She holds the dress up against her body and stands in front of the mirror. It takes a minute for her to remember why she even owns a dress like this: off the shoulder, purple ombre, and floor-length. There’s a purple-gold belt above the waist. She remembers wearing this to her grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary, sucking it in to make it fit for a few hours.

**Waverly** _[18:23:19]: What does it look like?_

Nicole lays the dress down on the bed and opens her camera app to take a picture but stops before she does. Biting down on her bottom lip nervously, she pulls off her t-shirt and her gym shorts, tossing her bra into the laundry basket. She pulls the dress on and it takes her a full minute to cinch it closed in the back. She straightens it out in the mirror and tips her head to one side, frowning. After a few seconds, she sighs.

“It’ll do,” she tells Banjo.

She unlocks her phone again and opens the camera app. She puts one leg up on her bed, letting the dress slide back so her calf is bare. She angles the camera down until she has the right picture: her lower leg and her foot and the purple fade around her knee. She takes the picture and sends it to Waverly. She looks back in the mirror and frowns at herself. Her messy bun isn’t working with this. She pulls the hairtie out and lets her hair fall to her shoulders, finger-combing out the tangles. She pulls her camera back out and takes a selfie, from nearly-bare shoulders up. She sends that picture to Waverly too.

Her phone buzzes as she’s taking the dress off and hanging it back up. She needs to do her hair first. She sees Waverly’s name on her phone and she grins as she plugs in her curling iron.

**Waverly** _[18:28:41]: Wowzeroonies_

**Nicole** _[18:29:07]: ...What does that mean?_

**Nicole** _[18:29:34]: Is that good?_

**Waverly** _[18:30:49]: It means I can’t wait to see the whole thing_

Nicole smiles shyly, ducking her head. She looks up and Banjo is staring right at her. “Stop,” she tells the cat. “You know how I get when pretty girls tell me I look good.” She scratches under Banjo’s chin. “And Waverly Earp is… _Yeah_. She’s the prettiest,” she breathes out.

**Waverly** _[18:31:54]: Like, now? Can I see it now?_

**Nicole** _[18:32:48]: You’re going to see me in a few hours._

**Waverly** _[18:33:37]: Not soon enough_

Nicole grins and shakes her head. She checks her curling iron and figures it’s hot enough. She fishes the right bra out from the bottom of her top drawer and stands in front of the mirror in her bathroom, breathing in deeply.

**Waverly** _[18:34:56]: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours_

Nicole’s fingers slip and her phone falls to the ground. It’s a fancy party in a fancy hotel and she knows Waverly likes to dress up, _but_ , she wonders, _exactly how many places would Waverly wear a dress like the one in the vision_?

She picks her phone up slowly and reminds herself to take a deep breath. It’s going to be a long night if she’s going to lose her ability to function every time she thinks of Waverly Earp in that dress.

**Nicole** _[18:35:41]: No can do. You’re just gonna have to wait_

She leaves her messages open and props her phone against the sink while she starts brushing out her hair. She winds a chunk of hair around the iron and pulls slowly, frowning at the curl. She combs it out and starts over.

**Waverly** _[18:37:03]: It’s totally unfair that Nedley is the first person who gets to see you all dressed up_

Nicole snorts and loses her grip on the curling iron. It drops into the sink, narrowly avoiding hitting her hand on the way down. She picks it up gingerly and rests it on the side of the sink.

**Nicole** _[18:37:56]: He volunteered to pick me up. I didn’t have a better offer ;)_

**Waverly** _[18:39:07]: Wynonna wanted us all to go together :/_

**Nicole** _[18:40:05]: I know. I was teasing. I heard her talking about it at the station this morning_

**Waverly** _[18:40:47]: I wish I could have picked you up. You could have come down the stairs and been annoyingly beautiful_

**Nicole** _[18:41:31]: And what would the background music be?_

**Waverly** _[18:42:56]: ‘Can’t Get Enough of You Baby’ by Smash Mouth_

Nicole laughs so hard that she doesn’t get her handful of hair around the curling iron.

**Waverly** _[18:44:08]: I feel like that song really… speaks to romance as a whole_

**Nicole** _[18:44:38]: Waverly Earp, you are something else_

Her phone quiets. There’s no bubbles to show Waverly is typing. Nicole frowns but then checks the time and focuses her attention on her hair. Nedley told her to be ready at ‘ _1900 sharp, Haught_ ’ and she’s running out of time.

Her phone beeps as she’s running the curling iron through the last section of her hair. She picks it up without looking, thumbing in her passcode.

**Waverly** _[18:49:29]: Something good?_

Nicole’s heart clenches in her chest and turns over. She can picture Waverly at the homestead, curled up on her bed, her shoulders hunched in, nervously working her bottom lip between her teeth. “Oh, baby,” she mutters to herself.

**Nicole** _[18:50:00]: Something amazing_

She pulls the dress on and stands in front of her dresser, picking out accessories. She tries on a few different pairs of earrings before she decides on long, dangling ones. She picks out a few rings and a bracelet. She stands in front of her mirror and studies herself and wonders if she really is walking-down-the-stairs-in-a-teen-romance worthy. She twists side to side and shrugs at her reflection.

There’s a polite knock at her door. Nicole scoops up her phone, grabs a clutch out of the closet, throws her house keys and her handcuffs in there, and scratches Banjo behind the ears as she reaches for a coat. She pulls open the door and Nedley takes a quick step back.

“You, uh, you clean up nice,” he says, stumbling over the words.

She smiles gratefully. “Thank you, sir. So do you.” She winces a little and reaches out with one hand before she realizes what she’s doing. She pulls her hand back and nods down. “Do you mind if I…”

Nedley frowns but shrugs. “Uh, sure.”

Nicole puts her clutch down on the small table next to the door and reaches out again, her fingertips resting on the edges of Nedley’s bowtie. She tugs it one way and then the other, leaning back to check, and then tugs it one more time. “There. Now it looks perfect.”

She can see the tips of his cheeks flush red, but he coughs loudly and she looks away.

“Let me leave a light on for Banjo and then I’m good to go.”

He nods sharply. “I won’t be saying hi to it.”

“Wouldn’t ask you to, sir,” she calls over her shoulder. She turns on the living room light and shuts everything else off, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind her.

“Chrissy is in the car. She told me to, you know, come up and walk you down,” he explains.

“That was nice of her,” Nicole says, trying not to laugh as he moves stiffly down the hallway ahead of her.

“She picked out this monkey suit,” he continues, his voice strained.

“You look very handsome, sir.”

Nedley snorts. “I’d rather be at home in my flannel watching the game.”

Nicole sighs as she follows him out of the building into the cool night air. “Wouldn’t we all.”

He holds the door open for her and she slides into the backseat, surprised to see Chrissy on the other side of the car.

“Hey,” Chrissy says, reaching out and trailing a finger down Nicole’s earring. “Wow, you look great. Waverly is going to die for this dress.”

Nicole frowns. _How would Chrissy know_ , she wonders. “She… She is?”

“Oh, totally. Purple used to be her favorite color.”

Nicole exhales noisily. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

Chrissy gives her a confused smile, but twists around and reaches over the center console to stab at the radio. Nothing comes on as she turns the tuning dial up and down. She slows it down and finds Purgatory’s only station; Willie Nelson is on again.

Nedley slides into the front seat and huffs when he notices Chrissy in the back. “What the hell are you doin’ in the backseat?”

Chrissy waves a hand at him. “Nicole doesn’t need to sit alone in the back of this SUV like you’re whisking her off to underground government facility.”

“That was… _really_ specific,” Nicole breathes out, her hand resting on her seatbelt release.

“I did _not_ whisk Greg Stanley away anywhere,” Nedley says. “He left that dance on his own and I offered to drive him home.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes and looks at Nicole. “Greg Stanley was my prom date,” she explains. “He also, like, joined the Army the day after prom and no one has heard from his again.”

Nicole’s hand flexes on her buckle. “Oh. Huh,” she says, her voice a little high. “I mean, my momma knows I’m going out tonight and she’s lookin’ forward to talking to me later.”

She catches Nedley’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Don’t worry, Haught.”

“Yeah,” Chrissy chimes in. “Dad says you’re the best he’s got. He doesn’t want you to go anywhere. It’s why he puts good coffee in the breakroom.”

Nedley quickly glances away and shifts the SUV into drive. “Alright, ladies. Let’s go and play nice, huh?”

Chrissy cheers loudly and Nicole can’t help but smile.

“Uh, sorry,” Nedley adds. “Can I call you ladies? Or is that against the feminism you were tellin’ me about, Chrissy.”

 

-

The Wainwright is already packed by the time Nedley pulls up to the front.

“I guess he wasn’t kiddin’ about inviting the whole town,” Nedley huffs as he shuts the car off. He gets out and opens Nicole’s door, offering his hand. She slides out of the car more gracefully than she’s ever done before and thanks him quietly before he goes and does the same for Chrissy. He takes a deep breath. “Shall we?” He bends each arm at the elbow and Nicole wraps her hand around his arm nervously.

Nicole has never been inside the Wainwright and she can’t stop the soft exhale of awe that slips out of her mouth as they step through the main entrance.

“Purgatory does some things right,” Nedley says in her ear.

“I guess so,” Nicole breathes out. She untangles herself from Nedley’s arm and spins in a slow circle, taking in the chandeliers and the high ceilings. She knew places like this existed, but she didn’t know they existed in Purgatory. She does a second slow circle, scanning the crowd for Waverly. She doesn’t see her but she catches Champ’s eye across the room and groans to herself.

“What an idiot,” Chrissy grumbles in her ear. “A shirt with a tuxedo front on it?” She scoffs. “I’m so glad Waverly dumped him.”

Nicole feels herself smile. “Me, too.”

Chrissy taps her shoulder. “Oh, champagne.”

Nicole looks to where Chrissy is pointing and notices the tables glittering with champagne glasses. “I’ll go get us some,” she offers.

Chrissy smiles gratefully and presses a hand against Nicole’s arm. “That would be great. Dad likes to stand by the door and act like he’s the security team. I’ll be by the stairs.”

Nicole weaves through the crowd and picks three glasses up from the table, holding them unsteadily. She turns and nearly drops one as she comes face-to-face with Bobo Del Ray.

“Why, _Officer Haught_ ,” he drags out, his eyes moving down her body slowly. “Don’t you look pretty all cleaned up.”

Nicole scowls. “What do you want?”

“Now, now. Is that any way to talk to the new benefactor of Purgatory’s top-notch Sheriff’s Department?” He grins at her, his lips curled back.

Nicole spares a glance at Nedley, shaking hands with the Fire Chief. “The Sheriff would never let you bankroll him.”

Bobo leans in, the edge of his fur coat brushing against her bare shoulder. “Everyone has a price, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear. “I wonder what yours is.”

She steps back and cuts through the crowd, trying to get away from him. The champagne glasses in her hand tip dangerously but she manages to get back to Chrissy and Nedley and hand them their drinks. She doesn’t feel Bobo’s heavy presence at her back anymore and she exhales softly.

“Don’t worry, Haught,” Nedley says out of the corner of his mouth. “We don’t have to do too much schmoozing. Department got a brand new monetary gift this afternoon.”

“From who?” she asks shakily.

“Not sure,” Nedley says. “Not sure I want to ask, either. It’s gonna be enough to cover the cost of new uniforms and upgrade some security inside the building. Ever since Deputy Marshal Dolls moved in, things have gotten…”

“Weird,” Nicole mutters, lifting the champagne glass to her lips. Nedley doesn’t say anything back and someone from Town Hall catches his attention and pulls him into a conversation.

Chrissy elbows her before she can manage a sip. “Have you met Willa yet?”

Nicole must make a face because Chrissy nods sympathetically. “Yeah. I saw Waverly in town a few days ago and she said she was happy, but she didn’t look it, you know?” Chrissy sighs softly. “I’ve been a really crappy friend to her, haven’t I?”

“Oh, I’m sure you-”

“I have,” Chrissy interrupts. She leans into Nicole’s arm. “After the whole bachelorette party, I just… Things were weird. And-”

“And Waverly understands weird,” Nicole says gently. “You should talk to her. She’d love to hang out with you.”

Chrissy wipes discreetly at the edge of her eye. “You’re everything my dad said you were.”

Nicole feels her chest swell. “He talks about me?”

Chrissy rolls her eyes. “Oh, god. I can’t get him to stop.” She pauses and points behind her, up the stairs. “By the way, Waverly is totally here. Did you not see her yet?”

Nicole turns her head quickly but doesn’t spot Waverly in the small crowd at the top of the stairs.

“She followed Willa up there. Deputy Marshal Dolls was just here a second ago, too.”

Nicole hears  _Willa_ and sighs, lifting the champagne glass again.

“Haught,” Nedley snaps.

She puts down the glass without taking a sip. “Sir?”

“Diaz and his wife were coming tonight. I think I saw them over there.” He points back towards the tables of champagne. “Do you mind-”

She lifts her glass towards him. “On it, sir.”

It takes a few minutes to find Diaz and his wife and she talks to them for a few minutes - about the weather, about their kids, about their recent vacation to Ontario - before she points him in Nedley’s direction and wanders back towards the main entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse of Waverly.

All she finds is Bobo.

“We meet again,” he says.

She leans against the doorway between the foyer and the ballroom and twirls her glass of champagne in a circle.

“Has the Sheriff figured out his new donor’s name?” Bobo teases.

“Like I said,” Nicole hisses out of the corner of her mouth. “He’d never take money from you.”

“Like _I_ said,” Bobo spits back. “Everyone has a price."

Nicole turns and opens her mouth to lay into him when his eyes light up. “Speaking of prices, how much do you think Ms. Earp is worth?”

She follows his gaze and feels her chest expand tightly as she catches sight of Deputy Marshal Dolls coming through the front door, Willa Earp behind him. She feels her breath catch in her throat.

Waverly Earp, smiling on the staircase of the Wainwright Hotel in a seafoam mermaid dress.

Her champagne glass nearly slips from her fingers. She catches it at the last second and when she looks up, Waverly has spotted her and is coming down the stairs. Bobo is gone when she turns back to him and she stays in one place for a second, hoping to get her heartrate down to something that feels normal.

_No, no, no_ , Wynonna cries.

She looks away as Waverly gets closer, moving through the crowd easily.

“You,” she breathes out. “Are a _vision_.”

Waverly rolls her eyes and shies away, but there’s a smile on her face that tells Nicole she knows _exactly_ how good she looks. “Oh, please, I didn't even have time to accessorize,” she says.

Nicole looks down at the bracelet on her wrist and notices, for the first time, how it matches Waverly’s dress more than it matches hers. ‘See, I knew I wore this bracelet for a reason.” She unhooks it from her wrist and closes it around Waverly’s outstretched arm. The backs of Waverly’s fingers brush against her stomach and Nicole feels the muscles clench tightly.

“Thanks,” Waverly says softly. She looks Nicole up and down and her mouth pulls up on one side. “Hey, if we get out of here, we are getting dressed up _way_ more often.”

_Waverly staggers back against the counter, blood seeping into her dress and staining it red_.

Nicole feels her heart stop. “What do you mean, ‘ _if_ we get out of here’?”

_Wynonna rushes across the room, catching Waverly before she hits the ground. ‘No, no, no.’_

Waverly leans in a little, enough that Nicole can smell the perfume along her neck, and lowers her voice slightly. “Uh… just stay by the exits, okay?”

Nicole opens her mouth to demand answers; to _insist_ that Waverly tell her what is really going on in this town and why Bobo is throwing a party and how Shorty really died and what the hell is it with Wynonna’s gun and why does she keep dying, but she looks up to ask them all and she sighs. “Willa,” she says, her voice bordering on hostile.

There’s something about Willa. She can’t put her finger on it. Something tells her she should be afraid to now.

Willa waves down to Waverly. “Hey, come,” she mouths.

Waverly gives her a soft, apologetic smile - like there’s some shift that happened that Nicole doesn’t know about - squeezes Nicole’s arm gently and wanders back through the crowd, past Champ lingering at the bottom of the stairs, and then up to Willa.

She’s too busy glaring at Willa, who is smiling smugly back, to notice that Champ is five feet away and closing in. When she does see him, she rolls her eyes and suddenly wishes for anyone, even Bobo, to interrupt them.

His words are already slurring and his breath is like hot champagne. “I saw all that, you know,” he hisses.

She grits her teeth and angles her body away from. Pressed against the door, there’s nowhere to go. “Not now, Champ.”

He leans in closer, his champagne glass clinking against hers. “So you two are, like, _together_ now, eh?” He sneers. “That's disgusting. _Disgusting_.” He takes a long sip of his champagne, draining the glass and dropping it sideways on the table behind them.

She rolls her eyes again and pushes past him, trying to get away from him, but he steps in her path quickly, swaying side to side. “You took everything from me, you know that? Kyle and Pete and Pine.”

“They broke the law,” she reminds him. This time she fakes left and goes right and gets around him. He two-steps though, regains his balance, and follows after her towards the staircase. “And Waverly, too. You know, as soon as we break up, you just _swoop_ in and steal my girl.”

Nicole spins quickly and it forces Champ to take a small step back. “Okay, _lower_ your voice. Waverly doesn't _belong_ to anyone.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Waverly coming down the stairs.

Champ steals her champagne glass out of her hand and takes a long sip. “Oh, yeah, blah blah blah feminism blah.”

“Champ!” Waverly hisses. “You're drunk. And apparently a raging homophobe.”

Champ sways as he comes to a stop a few stairs ahead of Nicole. “Oh, you think this is because she's a _girl_?” His voice goes high.

Nicole feels her stomach turn over as she recognizes Nedley and Chrissy coming down the stairs behind Waverly, stopping there. Nedley’s eyes roam from Nicole to Champ to Waverly and back to Champ, taking in his red face and his slight panting and the soft sway of his shoulders as he tries to stay upright.

Chrissy said Nicole is Nedley’s favorite; she wants it to stay that way.

“Okay, Champ, I think you've had enough,” Nedley says, his voice stern.

Champ rolls his eyes so hard his whole body moves. “Of _course_ you're gonna take her side,” he complains. He turns to Nicole. ”You know, every time I failed that preliminary law enforcement exam, she would say, ‘It's okay, Champ. You have nothing to prove’.” He snorts. “But apparently _that_ was a lie.” He looks back up at Nedley. “She's dating a cop.”

Nicole’s stomach knots and she holds her breath.

Nedley’s eyes dart between Nicole and Waverly and then back to Nicole but there’s no disgust on his face, no hate in his eyes. He doesn’t look surprised and he doesn’t look repulsed. Nicole feels her body give in relief and she grips the railing a little tighter to steady herself.

“Well,” he says kindly. “I guess that would be their own private business.” He takes a step down, coming up right behind Waverly’s shoulder. “Come on, son, let's get you out of here.”

Champ’s body seizes and he hunches over, gripping the champagne glass tightly in his hand. “No!” His whole body jerks and the glass shatters.

Waverly jumps back a step. “Oh, my God! Champ, are you on something _other_ than bubbly?”

Champ grunts and goes up a step and Nicole feels panic rise in her throat.

Nedley elbows Waverly out of the way, putting her behind him. Nicole can just barely see Chrissy reach for Waverly’s hand as Nedley puts up his own. “ _Ho_! Ho, ho, ho!” he shouts.

Champ turns back in Nicole’s direction and tries to take a step that way. Nicole pulls back her arm and swings, catching Champ on the nose. She hears the crowd, suddenly tuned into the action, gasp and shout. She ignores them, grateful she threw her handcuffs into her clutch. Nedley comes down the stairs and holds Champ in a sitting position as she tightens the cuffs around his wrists.

Nicole looks up to meet Waverly’s eyes, expecting fear and anger, but all she sees is the same look Waverly gets after they’ve spent a half hour pressed against each other kissing, fingers skimming along each other’s skin. She flushes softly and has to look away as she hauls Champ to his feet, escorting him clumsily down the stairs.

She loses Waverly then, for a little while. She sees glimpses of her: with Willa at a small table, laughing but every move of her body screaming _uncomfortable_ ; at Wynonna’s side, a hand on Wynonna’s arm as she scans the crowd; talking to Chrissy, leaning into Chrissy’s side. She catches her eye every so often and Nicole smiles shyly until Champ grumbles and slips forward and she has to jerk him upright.

“Marsden and Augustine are on their way,” Nedley tells her. “You’ll get back to staring at your girl in no time.”

Champ grunts between them.

Nicole flushes. “Sir,” she starts.

Nedley looks at her over Champ’s head. “I’m not stupid, Haught. I’ve got eyes.” He shrugs. “And Linda has a mouth.”

Nicole groans and her eyes flutter closed in embarrassment for half a second. Then she straightens up and nods, surely. “Right, sir.”

Nedley opens his mouth to say something else when Bobo starts speaking.

“Good evening. Is everyone having a good time?” He grins at them and Nicole thinks of a feral cat. “Well, I hope so, because I'm only gonna say this once. Maybe twice.” Bobo shrugs. “I haven't decided yet. I have some good news and I have some bad news. The good news... is there's an _antidote_. To what, you ask?” He’s sliding back and forth across the room as he speaks, coming to stop in front of a woman Nicole recognizes as Diaz’s wife. “Hi.”

Diaz’s wife gasps, squeezes her glass too hard, and jumps when it shatters in her hand.

Bobo grins again. “Well, you see... that's the bad news.” He pulls a champagne bottle off the table next to him and throws it up in the air, catching it. “All this delicious bubbly that you've been drinking... like drunken pigs, has been _poisoned_. You will all slowly go batshit crazy.” He points in Nicole’s direction. “Exhibit A, Champ Hardy.”

Champ doubles over, almost if on cue. How you doin', Champ? Not good!” he shouts when Champ foam at the mouth again. “One lucky contestant will receive the antidote. All they have to do is bring me one person, dead or alive.”

Nicole doesn’t even want to ask. She’s already sure she knows the answer.

Bobo turns slowly and points. “and that one person is... Ms. Wynonna Earp.” He wiggles his fingers at everyone. “Have fun.”

The crowd starts to close in on Wynonna and Bobo slips out of the room.. Nicole scans the crowd for Waverly and sees her cutting through the writhing bodies towards Wynonna. Dolls and Doc push at people getting too close. Nicole can feel Champ twisting uncomfortably in her arms and she does her best to hold him upright. She watches Waverly anxiously, wishing she could get to her and tell her to run, to get to safety, to go so far away that no gun can follow her.

_Waverly staggers back against the counter, blood running down her neck and ruining her hemline_.

“Go,” Nedley grunts, wrapping his arm around Champ’s back and then hoisting him up under the arms.

“Sir?”

Nedley nods in Waverly’s direction. “ _Go_. Check on her. Tell her to go get safe.”

“Sir, I can’t-”

“You can and you will, Haught,” he orders. “It won’t do me any good if you’re working next to me half-focused on the job. Tell your girl you’ll see her later.”

She nods shakily and looks helplessly at her clutch in her hand.

Nedley sighs heavily and holds out a hand. “Just give it to me.” She fishes her phone out of it and then hands it to him, turning and starting through the crowd. “Haught.” She turns back. “If you see Chrissy…”

“Of course,” she promises. She turns and lifts on her toes. Even in her heels, she struggles to see over the arms of people fighting their way to Wynonna or the door. She sees Waverly grab for Willa over by the tables and moves through the bodies in her way, trying to head Waverly off.

“Uh, Nicole, come with us,” Waverly says, half of her attention on the people around and her and half of it on Nicole.

Nicole feels the corners of her mouth twitch. “Champ’s right, Waves. You’re dating a cop now. We go where the danger is.”

Waverly’s eyes flash and she exhales noisily enough that Nicole can hear it over all the shouting. “God, that’s sexy,” she breathes out.

Nicole grins for another minute longer before she gets serious, leaning in and resisting the urge to wind her arms around Waverly’s waist and hold her tight.

_Wynonna rushes across the room, kneeling next to Waverly as she slides to the floor. ‘No, no, no.’_

“Look, Nedley’s calling back up. We’re gonna contain this, okay?” she promises.

_I’m going to keep you safe_.

“Okay,” Waverly says.

_I need to keep you safe_.

“You didn’t drink the champagne, did you?” she asks nervously.

Waverly is shaking her head before Nicole finishes the question. “No. You?”

Nicole thinks of the glass in her hand, how Champ - of all the people - was the one preventing her from drinking it. “No,” she breathes out.

“Okay,” Waverly murmurs. Then she’s lifting up onto her toes and grabbing at the back of Nicole’s neck and pulling her in, pressing their mouths together tightly. “Okay,” she repeats when she pulls back. “Go.”

Waverly steps back and looks around. “ _Shit_ ,” she hisses. “Willa.” She looks around frantically. “Willa!”

Nicole watches Waverly disappear into the crowd and feels her heart pressing against the lump in her throat. Her hands ache to reach out and pull her back.

_Wynonna presses her hands to Waverly’s neck. “No, no, no,” she cries._

 

-

It takes nearly an half hour to get Champ to the station and drop him in a holding cell. The partygoers had piled out of the Wainwright as soon as Henry and Dolls pushed Wynonna out the window, and getting through the streets had been difficult. She had lost track of everyone, even Nedley, and only managed to hold onto Champ because he was handcuffed.

She texts Waverly three times.

She doesn’t find Chrissy on her way through town and she hopes that means she got somewhere safe before the whole town went _Night of the Living Dead_. She promises herself that when she goes back out onto the street, after she changes out of this dress, finding Chrissy is going to be her number one priority.

Right after finding Waverly.

“I almost feel bad leaving you here,” she mutters to him.

“Give me Wynonna,” he growls.

“No can do, buddy.” She slams the cell shut and takes one minute to rest her hip against the side of her desk. She unlocks her phone and checks; no messages from Waverly.

**Nicole** _[21:56:32] Where are you?_

“Those Marshals are here, too,” a voice says from behind her.

Nicole jumps and presses a hand to her chest when she realizes it’s just Linda. “ _Goddamnit_ , Linda.”

“Now, I hear the town is going to hell but you will not be taking the Lord’s name in vain in this building, you hear me?” Linda wags a finger at her. “Nedley’s favorite or not.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Nicole pants. “You just… You scared me.”

“That much is obvious,” Linda mutters. “What’re you doing here. The town is going to hell.”

Nicole hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “Champ Hardy.”

Linda leans to the side so she can see out the door and into holding. She nods slowly. “You take his girl and then throw him in jail?”

Nicole feels a rush of anger in her chest. “Waverly doesn’t _belong_ to-”

“Teasing, girl,” Linda interrupts. “Did I hit a nerve?”

Nicole shakes it off and rubs her fingers against her forehead.

_Waverly, in a seafoam dress, blood on her neck._

She needs to find Waverly.

“What’re you doing here? You didn’t go to the party?” she asks.

Linda laughs loudly. “Someone has to supervise Augustine and Marsden. Who do you think Nedley put in charge?”

Nicole thinks about it for a moment before she nods. “No, that’s a fair point.”

Linda stares at her for a second, her eyes going soft with concern. “You okay, girl?” She snorts when Nicole looks up in surprise. “Don’t act like you ain’t my favorite, too. I know when something is wrong with you, Nicole Haught. You get all tense in the shoulders and your mouth goes sharp and you get uppity about little things. Somethin’ is botherin’ you. What is it?”

Nicole sags back against her desk and opens her mouth when she hears talking and sees lights coming from the Black Badge offices. She stands up again and frowns at Linda.

Linda picks up her romance novel and thumbs it open. “I told you, them Black Badge boys are in there doing God knows what.”

Nicole nods and puts her clutch, rescued from Nedley, back in the top drawer of her desk. She opens her phone and fires off a quick text.

**Nicole** _[22:04:05]: Where are you? I’m at the station and I’m checking something out but I’ll come to you_

She tosses Linda the keys. “I’m gonna go find out _what_.”

“Atta girl,” Linda mutters.

Nicole follows the voices, but they go quiet for a moment so she has to follow the lights instead. She slides into the doorjamb, not stopping to notice Henry hiding something behind his back.

“Hey, have you see what’s going on out there?” she asks. “The whole town has gone 5150!” She finally takes in what they’re holding and her eyes widen. Her hands itch in a good way. She stares at the large gun safe and feels herself stepping towards it. “Whatever you’ve got planned, I’m game.”

Deputy Marshal Dolls shifts slightly, blocking her line of sight. “Hey, this is _classified_.”

She glares at him just as Henry rolls his eyes and pushes off the table he’s perched on. Nicole exhales and decides that right now, she doesn’t need Dolls or his fancy weapons or his attitude; she’s going to save Waverly Earp - and this town - without him.

“Purgatory's overrun by demon revenants, a. k. a. Wyatt Earp's resurrected outlaws,” Henry says in one breath.

Nicole’s head snaps up.

“Bobo Del Rey is their leader,” he continues. “I am Doc Holliday. Yes, _that_ Doc Holliday. And Dolls here, he is just a dick.”

She stares at them for a second, her mouth hanging open, before she grins. “ _Finally_! Thank you. It…” She frowns. She thinks of Wynonna and her gun; of Waverly hanging from the lychgate and the way her kidnappers just… disappeared; of the Russian mobster coming back to life and the demon stripper; of Willa rising from the dead; of Jack and his hot, hot hands. “Actually, it makes perfect sense.” When she looks up she catches Dolls’s glare. “Except for the last part.”

Dolls stares at her.

She hums under her breath.

Henry - _Doc Holliday_ , she reminds herself - throws her a tactical 12-gauge shotgun that she catches easily. “You still in?” he asks.

She nods and pumps the shotgun. “Like Flynn.” She winces a little at her answer and vows to be better at one-liners later. She straightens up as much as she can in her dress and nods to Dolls. “What do you need?”

Dolls seems to startle at her assertiveness and she smiles to herself. “Okay,” he says, a slight challenge in his voice. “Find the Earp girls. See if Nedley's still vertical.” He taps Doc. “We've got an antidote to steal, people.” He puts down his gun and buttons his suit jacket. “And, _Agent_ Haught,” he starts, meeting her eyes. “Welcome to the Black Badge Division.”

Nicole grins widely for a long moment before Doc nods his head towards the door. “Oh! Right.” She turns and moves back through station, stopping in the locker room and putting the shotgun down on the bench.

“Find the Earp girls. See if Nedley’s still vertical,” she repeats she opens her locker. “Of _course_ I’m going to find the Earp girls.” She rolls her eyes at her reflection in the small locker door mirror she has. “I need to find Waverly,” she says softly.

She pulls her spare uniform out of her locker and unclasps her dress, letting it pool at her ankles. She slips on her khakis and her socks and shoes and buttons her uniform shirt. Her Sheriff’s Department jacket is hanging inside her locker and she pulls that on, too. She has a backup utility belt instead of the one she prefers, and she’s missing her good set of handcuffs, but it’ll do for now.

She stops for a moment, her utility belt hanging from her fingers.

_Assess the situation. Be physically prepared_.

Biff starts to form in her mind and she shakes him out before the image settles. _Assess the situation_ , he had recited. _Be physically prepared_.

She scans her locker again but her vest isn’t in there. She filters through her memory, trying to figure out exactly where it is when she remembers that she had been wearing it last week and caught it on the loose screw sticking out of the cabinet in the kitchenette and tore the outer layer on the shoulder. Linda had taken it from her and promised to stitch it back up so they didn’t need to put in an order for a brand new one. She’s pretty sure she saw the vest under the front counter. She hangs her dress up in her locker and closes it tightly.

Her phone is still quiet when she leaves the locker room. Her utility belt hands from her hand; she won’t strap it on until she gets her vest back. And after she gets her vest, she’ll go back into the locker room and get that gun Doc tossed her. She makes a mental checklist in her head: vest, utility belt, gun. She repeats it over and over as she stalks back through the station.

“Call me overbearing,” she mutters to herself as she opens her phone app and taps Waverly’s number into the keypad. Her finger hovers over the call button.

“When are you going to take responsibility for all that you’ve done!” someone shouts.

“ _Waverly_ ,” Nicole breathes out.

She turns and follows the noise. There’s a light up ahead through an open doorway and she can hear Wynonna’s voice drifting out from it.

“Why did Bobo save you at the homestead? Why did _you_ save him?”

Nicole’s heart races in her chest, hammering against her breastbone.

“I’m running out of goddamn time,” the first person shouts.

The grey mist, the voice - Nicole’s heart comes to a full sliding stop.

_Willa._

That feeling Nicole had, the ache in the pit of her stomach every time Willa spoke to her or Waverly, the one that reared up and told Nicole to _run_ had been right.

_You can’t raise the dead_ , Nicole thinks. _They don’t come back the same_.

“Nobody’s getting hurt on my watch,” Wynonna says.

Nicole pauses in the hallway, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

_A life for a life,_ Juan Carlos had said. _It comes with a price._

She needs to time it right. She needs to wait. _Like the first time_ , she reminds herself. She can’t go in too early because Willa still might shoot at Waverly. She needs to go in at _exactly_ the right moment.

A life for a life; she needs to walk in the room at the moment Willa fires and make a trade.

_The universe keeps score_ and she needs to even it up.

“Nobody else, you mean,” Willa sneers.

She lets her eyes close for a moment. She hopes Nedley is the one who calls her momma. She hopes Waverly doesn’t get to her first. She hopes Banjo finds someone who doesn’t mind needing to buy the fancy kind of cat food. She hopes someone, _anyone_ , remembers that she tried her best.

She hopes this fixes things; that it makes things even and the world will let Waverly Earp live for a long, long time.

“I’m coming for you,” Wynonna promises.

Willa’s voice is a near-whisper. “Then I better slow you down.”

Nicole needs to hurry up. Her finger skims across the screen of her phone and the call connects and she steps through the open doorway.

_Goodbye, Waverly_ , she thinks.

A phone rings.

The gun swings and flashes bright red and Nicole sees white as a bullet punches through her, slicing hot into her chest. She feels it inside of her, burning her from the inside out, and she staggers back against the wall, sliding to the floor. The world tilts heavily to one side and Waverly is running to her, screaming her name. Nicole tries to press her hand to her chest to catch her breath and it comes back red and slick and warm.

“No, no, no,” Waverly cries. “ _No_ , baby. No, _please_.”

The last thing Nicole sees is the bottom of Waverly’s dress pooling in blood.

Then she sees nothing at all.


	10. x.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it, kids. We finally did it.
> 
> Like I told Smurf - the world's absolute best beta - this fic was supposed to be something easy and quick (maybe 30k, if I was lucky). And then somehow, this happened. This crazy explosive nonsense. And here we are, 91k later and finally, FINALLY resolution to the Season 1 rewrite I didn't know I was doing. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you, for reading this. If you read chapters as I updated, god bless you. That's a lesson in patience I've never had. I hope the posts came quickly enough for you. If you're reading this all in one go, I also say god bless you. 
> 
> Either way, thank you. And enjoy the conclusion of this mess.

Nicole opens her eyes and barely holds back a scream as a bright, white light blinds her. The force of it knocks her back and her body hits something hard beneath her. She scrambles on all fours to try and stand, but only gets as far as pushing up onto her knees before she slips again, landing hard on her front. She forces her eyes open, but there are giant black spots everywhere she looks and she can’t see anything. Her chest aches and her lungs burn, but she tries to stand again, slipping down just as quickly.

“Two things are infinite,” a strange voice says. “The universe and human stupidity. And I’m not sure about the universe.”

Nicole slams a fist into the surface beneath her. A hot pain blossoms through her hand.

“But I  _ am _ sure about humans,” the voice continues. “That’s Einstein.”

Nicole takes a slow, measured breath - she counts to three as she inhales, and seven as she exhales - but the fire builds in her chest until she’s panting again with the effort. She tries again, inhaling and exhaling for less, and the fire simmers to a slow burn that she decides she can manage. She stops trying to stand and lets her body accept gravity, twisting around until she’s laying on her back. When she slowly opens her eyes, she blinks hard enough to get the spots to fade and she realizes the light isn’t as bright.

“Welcome back,” someone says from above her.

Her eyes roll back until she sees mud-covered work boots, dirty denim jeans covering the laces.

“What-”

“Give yourself a minute,” Juan Carlos tells her. “It’s not an easy transition.”

It takes a few more minutes for her to catch her breath. There’s a heaviness in her chest, right above her sternum. The white light is softer now, manageable, but it stretches in every direction she looks. There’s a soft mist to the air she can feel on her cheeks. Her hands are clumsy as she feels her stomach, the polyester of her Sheriff’s Department jacket rough under her fingers. She moves up her jacket to her chest, feeling a small puncture in the center of it.

“She shot me,” Nicole says, her words strained.

“She  _ killed _ you,” Juan Carlos corrects. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

Nicole pushes up onto her elbows and looks around. She wasn’t imagining the mist; it brushes against her cheeks and nose. Everything she sees is white at first, but as her eyes adjust, she realizes it’s just the mist making them that way. Shapes start to appear; shapes she recognizes. There’s a desk and conference tables and a long wooden counter to her right that looks bare without Linda sitting at it.

“Where are we?” she asks.

Juan Carlos’s lips twitch. “We’re in Purgatory.”

Nicole shakes her head slowly. “No, we’re not. This is-”

“ _ Purgatory _ ,” Juan Carlos repeats. “The place between heaven and hell. This is where you atone for your sin and receive forgiveness, or you join Wyatt’s outlaws in the pits of despair.”

Nicole swallows a shaky breath and sits up completely, her legs still stretched out in front of her. She’s hunched over, her shoulders curling in as if the bullet in her chest is a weight pulling her down. “I hope...” she tries, stopping to inhale. “I hope you don’t write the promotional material.”

Juan Carlos offers her a hand. “I don’t.”

“It was a-” She stops herself and shakes her head. “Nevermind.”

She takes it hesitantly, but it’s warm and solid and his grip is tight. He pulls her up to her feet and lets her reach for his arm as she steadies herself. She’s in the bullpen, but it doesn’t  _ feel _ like the bullpen. It takes her a minute to understand why; there’s no  _ life _ to this place. There’s no pamphlets on the counter, no romance novels peeking out from the drawers. Diaz’s desk is bare, no family photos of him and his wife and his kids. The lights in Nedley’s office are on, but there’s no couch in there or certifications on the wall. Her desk is cleared off, too. The small toy stetson Waverly had bought her as a joke is gone.

“I’m dead,” she says slowly.

Juan Carlos pushes his hands into his pockets and nods gravely.

“Huh.” Nicole sits back, perching on the edge of the desk that isn’t really hers.

Juan Carlos leans back against Diaz’s desk. “You really are a stupid girl, aren’t you?” he says.

Nicole presses a hand to her chest. “I  _ saved _ her.” She suddenly panics. “I saved her, didn’t I?” She pushes off the desk and almost immediately drops to the ground. She steadies herself with one hand, though, and straightens up. “Tell me I did it.”

Juan Carlos sighs heavily. “Yes. You did.”

“A life for a life,” Nicole recites softly.

“And you decided for that life to be yours.”

Nicole looks up at Juan Carlos and shrugs. “She deserved to live. She deserves…  _ everything _ .”

“Because you love her.”

“Because I love her,” Nicole repeats quietly. 

“Like, I said,” Juan Carlos says. “Human stupidity.”

Nicole tips her head to the side, feeling every muscle in her body pull with the motion. “Weren’t you ever a human?”

Juan Carlos’s lips twitch but don’t form a smile. “No. I was a priest.”

“Didn’t you ever do something stupid? For someone else?” she asks him. “Because they were  _ good _ and  _ kind _ and because you… you  _ cared _ for them?” She can hear the desperation in her voice and she knows he can too.

Juan Carlos pushes off the desk he’s leaning on and walks a lazy line back and forth in front of her. “No,” he says firmly. “Because we all have a path to follow. We all have a plan. The universe decides what happens and people like you, people with  _ gifts _ , are supposed to make sure everything goes exactly how it was designed to.” He stop and stares at her. “You are  _ not _ supposed to decide what does and doesn’t happen.”

“It’s not like this gift came with instructions,” she huffs.

“Don’t tell me no one told you that you can’t change-”

“What the world has decided has to happen,” she finishes, the words stale in her mouth. “You know what? It’s  _ bullshit _ .”

“It’s  _ fate _ ,” he snaps back.

He sounds just like her momma.

Nicole stares down at her hands, trying to remember the last time she touched Waverly. It was at the Wainwright, as Waverly kissed her goodbye. Her hand had closed around Waverly’s wrist and held tightly and then Waverly had drifted into the crowd. 

“It’s bullshit,” she repeats softly. “It’s… it’s an  _ excuse _ .” She looks up at him. “We make our own choices.”

Juan Carlos stares at her until Nicole feels her body fidgeting under the scrutiny. “Why did you come to Purgatory?”

“Because I-” She stops abruptly and inhales sharply.

“Because you saw yourself in Purgatory, didn’t you? You saw yourself coming to Purgatory and you put aside everything else you wanted, even Calgary, to come here.”

Nicole’s mouth falls open a little. “How do you know that?”

He doesn’t humor her with an answer. “This  _ bullshit _ you’re talking about matters. It influences the fabric of our lives. You came to Purgatory because you  _ saw _ yourself in Purgatory. Because you were showed the future and because it  _ mattered _ that you came here. You were meant to come here. It’s been written in your future since the moment you were born.” He shakes his head. “But this is not the way you were meant to die.”

Nicole snorts. “What? Was I supposed to die at an old age, in my slippers in front of the TV?”

Juan Carlos doesn’t answer that either.

Nicole shakes her head. “I refuse to believe that someone like Waverly Earp was meant to die, and that no one was meant to save her. I refuse to accept that.” She presses her hand against the hole in her chest. “It was worth it.  _ She _ is worth it.”

He sighs and pauses beside her desk. His fingers brush across the top, through the empty space where her nameplate would be. “You’re in Purgatory,  _ this _ Purgatory, because you’ve been given… a second chance, of sorts.”

Nicole frowns. “A second chance?”

“This is not how you’re supposed to die,” he repeats. “And the universe wants to rectify that.”

“But…” She stops and takes a breath. “A life for a life.”

“Yes.”

“Then no.”

Juan Carlos crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes. “Excuse me?”

Nicole shrugs. “No, thank you.”

“You don’t say ‘ _ no, thank you’ _ to the universe,” Juan Carlos says, his jaw clenched.

Nicole pointedly tips her head back up towards the ceiling, her eyes on Juan Carlos. “No. Thank. You,” she repeats. “It would put Waverly at risk, wouldn’t it?”

“This is  _ your _ life we’re talking about, and-”

“Would I have to trade places with Waverly?” she asks over him.

His silence is answer enough.

“Then,  _ no, thank you _ ,” she says again. 

“You don’t understand,” he tries again. “You can put the world back to order. You can go back and put it on the right path.”

“And you can go suck a nut,” she says calmly.

“We all have a path to follow, Nicole Haught. And you have destroyed it. You destroyed hers.”

Nicole feels her body flush in anger. “I  _ fixed _ it.”

Juan Carlos shakes his head. “You stupid, stupid girl.” He stalks forward and grabs her by the collar of her shirt and pulls hard.

She feels her body being jerked forward through the mist and she loses sight of Juan Carlos. She can still feel his hand on her shirt and then a floor under her feet. Her knees nearly buckle again but he steadies her roughly.

When the world stops spinning and her eyes clear, she’s in the station, watching Waverly sink to her knees.

“No, no, no,” she cries. “ _ No _ , baby. No,  _ please _ .”

Nicole steps forward but Juan Carlos’s hand tightens on her arm. “No. You watch this.”

She watches Willa march forward, stepping over Nicole’s body on the ground, and then she’s gone. Her chest aches as she watches Waverly press against her body, trying to stop the bleeding. Waverly looks up at Wynonna, eyes wide on the other side of the room. 

Waverly looks up, her face wet and eyes desperate. “Wynonna,  _ help me _ .”

Wynonna startles and crosses the room quickly, dropping to her knee beside Waverly and grabbing Nicole by the collar. “Come on, Haught,” she mutters. Her fingers slide to Nicole’s neck, feeling for something, anything. Nicole can feel a soft pressure against her neck and she reaches for it absently, pushing down against the pulse she can feel there.

On the ground, Wynonna sits back on her feet and her hand slips from Nicole’s neck. “Waves...”

Waverly is already shaking her head. “No.  _ No _ .” She moves, pushing Wynonna out of the way. “No. Nicole, wake up.” She pushes against Nicole’s chest and the pressure builds. “Wake up. Please. Please wake up.  _ Please _ , baby.”

“Baby girl,” Wynonna tries again. Her hands are shaking as she reaches for Waverly.

Waverly doesn’t look up; she slaps Wynonna’s hands away and unzips Nicole’s jacket. Her uniform shirt is slick with blood and Waverly’s hands stain as she tugs clumsily at the buttons until she’s gotten them undone. She presses her hands to Nicole’s chest. “She’s not-” Blood slides between her fingers. “Wake up, Nicole.  _ Dammit _ , wake up.”

“Waverly,” Wynonna whispers. “Baby girl-”

“She’s warm,” Waverly insists. “She’s… I can feel it. She’s breathing. Just wait. Just give her a minute. Just-” One hand moves to Nicole’s neck, curling under her jaw. “I can feel it. I can  _ feel _ her.” 

Nicole touches her own neck but Waverly’s hand isn’t there. She looks at Juan Carlos but he doesn’t look back. 

Wynonna places a hand over Waverly’s. “Waverly, she’s gone.”

Waverly shakes her head, her eyes clouded with tears. “She’s  _ right here _ ,” she whispers. “I can feel her.”

“She’s gone,” Wynonna whispers again. 

“No. She can’t-” Waverly sucks in a shuddering breath and presses her forehead to Nicole’s. “You can’t be gone,” she cries. “I was… I was just falling in love.” She sits up and meets Wynonna’s eyes. “I was just falling in love.”

Wynonna’s eyes widen slightly. “I…”

Something hits the doorjamb heavily and Nicole startles against Juan Carlos slightly at the sound. Waverly does too, her hands sliding under Nicole’s shoulders and pulling her off the ground and into her lap, curling around her protectively. Wynonna twists and reaches for a gun she doesn’t have. Nedley pants heavily, a hand pressed into his stomach.

“I heard a-” His eyes move from Wynonna to Waverly to Nicole’s body and then he’s straightening up and stepping into the room, dropping down to the floor next to Waverly. “Call an ambulance,” he instructs, his voice hoarse.

“Nedley,” Wynonna says softly.

Nedley bats Waverly’s hands away, feeling for a pulse that doesn’t exist. “Call a bus!” he roars.

“ _ Randy _ ,” Wynonna snaps. She nods towards Waverly, brushing Nicole’s hair off of her face, tucking it behind her ears.

Nedley’s hands drop to his sides. Nicole can see them shaking. “What happened?”

“Willa,” Wynonna starts. She inhales sharply. “We need to stop Willa.” She reaches for Waverly again. “Waves, we need to stop Willa.”

“No,” Waverly says quietly, her eyes still on Nicole.

“Baby girl, we have to,” Wynonna argues softly.

“I’m not leaving her.”

“Willa is going to open the Ghost River Triangle,” Wynonna says. Her voice is tight and urgent.

Nicole can feel the ghost of Waverly’s fingers brushing across her face. Her whole body aches to kneel down next to Waverly; to kiss her; to tell her she’s sorry; to say she wasn’t falling in love, she was already there.

Waverly shakes her head. “I don’t care.”

“We can’t let her do it.”

Waverly’s eyes are hard when they snap up to meet Wynonna’s. “I’m  _ not _ leaving her.”

Wynonna looks to Nedley and he stares at her for a long moment before he nods softly and ducks his head to see Waverly.

“I’ll stay with her,” he says quietly. He inches forward, his hands out in front of him as he moves slowly. “I’ll keep her safe.”

Waverly’s grip tightens slightly and Nicole winces at the pain. “No.  _ No _ . You can’t keep her safe. You brought her to this town and you-you put her in  _ danger _ ,” she hisses. “You let her get involved and she didn’t  _ know _ . She didn’t know what could happen. She didn’t-” She chokes on her words. “You let her help and you didn’t tell her to be  _ careful _ . You should have told her,” she sobs. “ _ I _ should have told her.”

Nedley wraps a tentative arm around Waverly’s shoulders. She tries to shake him off but he holds on tightly, pulling until her face is pressed into his chest. “She knew,” he promises. “She knew. And she loved you.”

“I should have told her,” Waverly says, her words muffled by tears and Nedley’s jacket.

He clumsily strokes her hair, Nicole’s body caught between them. “She knew,” he repeats. He tries to clear his throat, but his voice is still strained when he speaks again. “And she would want you to go. To stop Willa. She would want you to save the day.”

Nicole watches the way Waverly looks up in disbelief and the way her eyes narrow. “I’m  _ not _ leaving her.” She looks up at Wynonna. “Willa has taken… She’s taken  _ everything _ . And now-now she took Nicole.” Waverly’s eyes flash with anger. “She’s not getting any more from me. I’m… I’m staying here.” She looks down at Nicole in her arms and her voice softens. “I’m staying with  _ her _ . I’m staying right here.”

Nicole turns on Juan Carlos, grabbing him by the front of the shirt. “You son of a-”

He pushes her back and she feels herself falling. She lands on her knees in Purgatory, white mist in her eyes. “No,” she growls as she rises to her feet. “That’s not how it was supposed to go. She’s supposed to  _ go _ with them. She’s supposed to fight back.”

“Why?” Juan Carlos asks. “This curse? It took everyone she loved. Including  _ you _ .”

Nicole presses the heel of her palm to her forehead.

“But you can change that,” Juan Carlos continues. “You can take this second chance and go back.”

Nicole shakes her head. “I’m not going if Waverly is the cost.”

Juan Carlos scowls. “You  _ need _ to right this, Nicole.”

Nicole opens her mouth to tell him exactly what is right and wrong when she pauses. “What do you mean, I  _ need _ to?”

Juan Carlos instantly shakes his head. “I didn’t-”

She advances on him, stabbing a finger into his chest. “You need me, don’t you?” It’s an advantage she can hold onto, sink her teeth into and  _ use _ . “If I go back, I want Waverly with me.”

Juan Carlos shakes his head. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“ _ Make it _ work like that,” she demands. “I don’t know what the world wants from me. But obviously, you do. And if you need me, if the ‘universe needs to right itself’, then whatever the world wants must be important.” She leans in close and lowers her voice. “So I want to negotiate. And negotiation? Is something I’m very, very good at.”

Juan Carlos continues to shake his head. “The universe doesn’t negotiate.”

“It’s me and Waverly, or it’s nothing at all,” she says firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. She leans back against the desk that should be hers.

Juan Carlos opens his mouth to tell her something, but something catches his attention. He tips his head to the side, his ear angled up. Nicole frowns and looks over her shoulder but she can’t see anything. She turns back to Juan Carlos as he starts shaking his head. “Absolutely not,” he says.

Nicole straightens up. “Who are you talking to?”

He ignores her. “I told you, we should not-” His mouth snaps shut. He crosses his arms over his chest. “She is one person in a- Would you stop interrupting me?”

Nicole leans forward at the waist, looking up above Juan Carlos. She doesn’t see anything up there either. 

“This is the worst-” He growls softly. “Fine. Fine.  _ Fine _ , I said.” He turns his attention back to Nicole. “Fine.”

“Uh, fine?” Nicole frowns. “What does that mean? Were you… Were you talking to the  _ universe _ ?”

Juan Carlos stares at her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What do you mean,  _ fine _ ,” she asks again.

“Waverly can live. And so can you,” he says. “On one condition.”

“Anything,” Nicole breathes out.

She doesn’t care what it is; she’ll give anything. Anything is worth giving up if she can get back to Waverly and they can both exist in the same place at the same time.

“You get your life back, free of charge. But Waverly’s life is going to cost you your gift.”

Nicole frowns. “My gift? You mean, seeing things.”

Juan Carlos nods. “Yes. If you want Waverly to live, you need to give up your ability to see the future. Your children will never be able to have it. The gift will end with you.” He studies her, his eyes roaming. “Think long and hard about this, Nicole.”

She does think about it. She thinks about how her gift has shown her inconsequential things - Nathan’s broken arm, her broken heart, the answers to a biology test. She thinks about how it showed her things that did matter - coming to Purgatory, Waverly dying, the Yorks holding her at gunpoint.  Without knowing those things, she would have never saved Waverly; she would have never been able to kiss her or slide her hands through Waverly’s hair or thumb along the small scar under her chin. Without knowing those things, she would have never saved Waverly’s life.

She hesitates, for a moment.

Then she thinks about the things it never did show her - her dad leaving them, her car accident, Jack pulling her out of her cruiser. She thinks about how knowing about Jack wouldn’t have changed the fear that coursed through her veins. It wouldn’t have changed the knot in her stomach as a paramedic worked to free her from a collapsed dashboard while another one tried to hold the skin of Nathan’s chest together. It wouldn’t have changed the anger she felt when her dad stood at the bottom of the stairs and promised she could visit whenever she wanted to, at his nice new house by the ocean.

“I need your word,” she finally says. Her throat feels raw. “I need your word that you’re not going to give her back to me and then take her away again.”

“She won’t die,” Juan Carlos says.

“You can’t promise me she’s going to live and then just take it back,” she says again. 

“There are many things in store for Waverly Earp,” he says calmly. “Death will not be one of them.”

It’s cryptic and unsettling and his eyes have that same faraway look they did on the day of Shorty’s funeral, when he was staring past her to the mountain range asking her if she felt like everyone was destined to die in specific ways. But then he blinks and meets her gaze and his eyes are clear and steady.

“Okay,” she breathes out. “I’ll do it. I’ll take the deal.”

Juan Carlos shakes his head. He walks towards her slowly. “Are you sure about this?”

“Waverly lives? The universe calls it even?”

He sighs. “Waverly lives. You live. You give up your gift. The universe considers it a fair trade.”

She closes her eyes and exhales softly. “Then yes. I’m sure.”

“This is your life, Nicole.”

She opens her eyes and stares at him. “I have a feeling she is my life.”

He rests a hand on her shoulder. “Humans,” he mutters. “Oscar Wilde said that ‘whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives’.”

She feels her lips twitch. “You don’t believe that.”

“No,” he admits. He curls his fingers in her jacket. “But I’m sure you do.” 

And then she’s falling.

 

-

Nicole hits the floor in the locker room hard enough that she tastes something faintly copper in her mouth. She licks the inside of her cheek and winces. She stands slowly and takes stock of everything. She’s half-in, half-out of her dress, her locker door open and her spare uniform spilling out. She can save Waverly and she can save herself if she hurries. She wiggles the rest of the way out of her dress and shoves it hastily into her locker. She pulls on her khakis and tucks her uniform shirt in sloppily. She reaches for her jacket and her fingers hit her vest first.

She pauses; her vest is back. She bypasses her jacket and undoes her shirt. She pulls her vest on, strapping it tightly to her body. The shoulder is stitched exactly where she tore it. She buttons her shirt, tucks it in again, and pulls her jacket on over it. She grabs her utility belt and her phone and leaving the gun on the bench. There’s no time; she needs to get to Waverly.

The station is still dark except for the lights coming from the bullpen and a light coming from an open door down the hallway. She gets closer to it, her hand on her phone. She unlocks it and selects Waverly’s contact info, her finger hovering over the call button.

“What I am is the  _ goddamn _ Earp heir and I’m running out of  _ goddamn _ time,” Willa’s voice carries from the lit room. Nicole presses herself against the wall, breathing heavy. She doesn’t know when to go in this time. She doesn’t know how to save them. Juan Carlos had pushed her through Purgatory with no instructions and she-

She stops herself.

He gave her a vest. He put her bulletproof vest back in her locker and that means something; it has to mean something. 

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Willa continues.

Nicole tries to steady her breathing. The vest. It means  _ something _ .

“Nobody's getting hurt on my watch,” she hears Wynonna promise. 

Willa scoffs. “Nobody else, you mean. Daddy, me, everyone else out there. When are you gonna take responsibility for all that you’ve done?” she cries.

The vest. It must mean… She inhales sharply. It must mean she’s still going to take the bullet, except this time something stops it.

She silently curses Juan Carlos.

“Why did Bobo save you at the homestead? Why did  _ you _ save  _ him _ ?” Wynonna asks.

Nicole takes one last deep breath and presses the call button on her phone. She counts two seconds in her head, listens for Waverly’s phone to ring, and pushes off the wall. She steps into the room like she’s not terrified of never walking out again.

“Hey, I knew I recognized that ringtone,” she says cheerfully, swallowing past her fear. “Whoa.”

Waverly’s eyes cut frantically to hers as Willa turns the gun towards Nicole. There’s a pleading in Waverly’s eyes, a  _ please-turn-and-run _ look that Nicole ignores, holding her hands up a little in surrender instead. 

“Okay, okay,” she breathes out.

Willa’s arm barely wavers. “Give me Peacemaker or I punch a bunch of holes in Waverly’s girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Wynonna’s head twists towards Waverly.

“Um, kind of,” Waverly stumbles.

Nicole pauses for a second. She thinks back to what she saw before, Waverly pulling her lifeless body into her lap, telling Wynonna she was falling in love. “Kind of?” she asks in disbelief.

Waverly glances at her quickly, her eyes wide and wet, willing her to understand.

“I know you won’t shoot,” Wynonna says confidently. There’s a tension in her shoulders that betrays her, though. Nicole knows Wynonna is realizing that she doesn’t know this woman before her; she knows who Willa was, but this isn’t Willa anymore.

Willa barely blinks. “What do I care about some ginger, butch cop?”

"Wynonna, she'll do it," Waverly breathes out.

"Waverly," she says, trying to get her attention. She wants to tell her not to worry; she has a vest. She’ll be fine. 

_ This is how it’s supposed to go, _ she thinks to herself.

"If I don't have it in three..." Willa starts.

"No, please," Waverly says, her voice breaking.

"It's the only thing that will stop Bobo," Wynonna says, her eyes on Willa.

"Two," Willa continues.

"Wynonna," Waverly pleads.

"I can't,” Wynonna breathes out, finally looking at Waverly. 

"Please," she hears Waverly gasp. She says something else, something Nicole can't hear, but Wynonna must. She flinches slightly at whatever Waverly says and Nicole wishes she could hear it too

Instead, she braces herself for the impact.

"One," Willa says. She cocks the gun.

"Okay. Okay!" Wynonna shouts. She stretches an arm out, Waverly’s clutch in her hand. 

Nicole exhales gratefully but it still isn’t right. She still has the vest. Juan Carlos wouldn’t have gifted it to her if it wasn’t necessary. 

Willa grabs for it "So naive. So emotional," Willa says. Her eyes burn with unwavering disgust.

"This isn't over. I'm coming for you," Wynonna promises.

Willa's lips twitch. "Then I better slow you down."

Nicole barely has time to set her feet. She hears the gun go off and then a pressure in her chest punches through her vest and into her ribs. She feels them crack under the weight of the bullet and her body, unbraced and unaware of what was happening, stumbles backwards. The back of her head hits the wall before the rest of her body does and then she’s on the floor, staring at the ground and gasping for air.

She feels Willa step over her and she can hear her footsteps, magnified, moving down the hallway. There’s a loud roar in her ears and Waverly’s scream echoing like a ringing bell. Waverly’s hands slide across her shoulders, under her jaw, turning her over until she’s staring at the ceiling and Waverly’s face is swimming in front of hers. Her hands are hot, so hot, and Nicole wants to push her away and explain everything but she can’t breathe, can’t get a word out, and  _ shit _ , she thinks.  _ Shit, goddamnit, that hurt _ .

“I’m here,” Waverly sobs.

Nicole feels Waverly’s hands on her neck and in her hair, feeling her pulse and Nicole tries, she tries to tell Waverly. “I want,” she starts.

“I know,” Waverly says. “I know.”

_ You don’t _ , Nicole thinks.  _ You don’t know. You don’t know that I love you. You don’t know that I died for you. You don’t know that I would do it all over again _ .  _ You don’t know that I am _ .

“N o blood," Wynonna says from somewhere above her. "There's no blood!"

A leg slides under her head and Wynonna is staring down at her, her eyes wide and scared like they were in the woods, when Nicole moved further and further away. "My sister joined the dark side. If you've been a Revenant this whole time, I'm just gonna call in sick tomorrow," Wynonna growls.

"She's not," Waverly says, her voice choking on the words.

_ I’m not, _ she wants to say.  _ I’m human. I’m more human now than I’ve ever been. _

"No, I'm..." Nicole starts. She wants to tell them, but Wynonna is already gripping the edges of her shirt tight, ready to pull. Buttons fly off in every direction. "Wearing a bulletproof vest," she finishes.

Waverly gasps in relief, leaning down and pressing her forehead into Nicole's shoulder. The weight comes off her chest and settles under the point where Waverly’s forehead meets her shoulder. She struggles to reach a hand up and run her fingers along the spot on Waverly’s neck she knows will no longer be marked. She reaches for the bullet in her vest next, picking up the casing. 

"It's kind of standard operating procedure when we've got a 404 on our hands,” she recited. She takes their blank look at face value. "A bunch of crazy hicks off their rocker?" She flicks the shell away.

Waverly lets out a sob that sounds more like a laugh.

“Finally picked a smart one,” Wynonna manages. She’s looking at Waverly, her eyes watering slightly.

Waverly smiles back at Wynonna, her eyes just as wet, before she looks back down at Nicole. “I’m going to get you to the hospital, okay?”

Nicole would like that. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire and she knows she won’t be showering standing up for at least a week. But she also knows that Waverly needs to go with Wynonna, wherever that is, and end this; bury Willa once and for all.

“No, no. I’m just a little bruised,” she lies. “You need to go with Wynonna and stop your sister. Sorry, but she’s kind of a dickhead.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Wish Doc and Dolls were here,” she admits. 

“They went to raid Shorty’s,” Nicole tells her. She winces as Wynonna shifts a knee underneath her. “Something about an antidote.”

Waverly smiles a proud, watery smile. “See?  _ Super  _ smart.”

Nicole wants to tell her she’s not, but the words get lost as Waverly leans down and presses her mouth to Nicole’s, her lips wet with tears and slightly chapped from the cold Nicole hasn’t quite gotten used to yet. Waverly’s hand grips desperately at Nicole’s jaw, holding her close.

“Yeah, alright,” Wynonna mutters. “Yeah, you guys do that.” She moves out from under Nicole’s body.

Waverly’s hands slide around her neck, holding her off the floor. There’s a phantom pressure on Nicole’s chest that threatens to keep her tied to the floor, but Waverly pulls her higher, twisting Nicole’s ribs. The pain is worth the kiss, worth the slight press of Waverly’s tongue to her own.

“Time’s up, let’s go!” Wynonna shouts just as she throws Waverly’s coat at the back of Nicole’s head. She breaks the kiss and lets her weight carry her back to the floor, a smile on her face despite the numbing pain in her chest, moving through her body.

“Go,” she tells Waverly.

Waverly kisses her quickly and pulls back. “Chrissy. She’s in the Sheriff’s office,” Waverly says, pausing in the doorway. Nicole can hear Wynonna tapping her foot impatiently. “She’s worried. About Nedley. But he’s coming.”

“I got it, baby,” Nicole breathes out. “Go save the world.”

She waits until she’s sure Waverly is out of sight and down the hallway before she gives into the pain and sinks back into the floor. She gingerly presses at her side and chest and sees a white, blinding light. Her ribs are definitely fractured, if not broken, and she probably re-injured the rib Jack crushed with his boot. Distantly, she hears someone moan and she remembers what Waverly said - Chrissy Nedley is in the Sheriff’s office. 

It takes Nicole a minute to turn over, and she’s panting hard when she finally manages to get onto her stomach. She ignores the instant flare of pain and crawls, her legs dragging uselessly behind her. It takes her nearly ten minutes to get across the room and into the doorway of the Sheriff’s office. She can see Chrissy’s legs sticking out from behind the desk and she tries to rest for one second, rolling onto her side and grunting.

Chrissy moans again.

“I’m coming,” Nicole pants. “Hold on.” She inches forward another foot, wrapping her fingers around Chrissy’s ankle. She doesn’t know what the poison does, what it’s doing to Chrissy now, but she’s not going to let it happen alone. She swallows past the pain and grabs Chrissy’s leg, pulling her closer. When she’s close enough that Nicole can get an arm around her waist, she pulls Chrissy into her body. “This isn’t going to work,” she curses. She lets Chrissy go and rolls onto her back.

“You can do it, you can do it,” she tells herself. She pushes up onto her elbows and gets into as much of a sitting position as she can manage. This time, when she pulls Chrissy against her, she realizes she can scoot across the floor and drag Chrissy with her. 

She uses Nedley’s desk as leverage, pushing off  of it with her legs to give herself some distance across the floor. She fishes her phone out of her pocket to check the time and she huffs. When she checks again, after they’ve made it five feet, it’s been fifteen minutes. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” she curses. She readjusts her grip, lacing her fingers together tightly, her cellphone probably uncomfortable against Chrissy’s stomach, and slides back so far she’s nearly on the ground. They get further, though.

Something slams heavily into the doorway and Nicole startles, reaching for a gun she isn’t wearing. Instead, she shifts and drops Chrissy behind her, tightens her grip on her cellphone, and attempts to throw it at the doorway. It’s not an accurate throw but Nicole hears someone hiss.

“Jesus  _ Christ _ ,” Nedley hisses. He grabs her phone off the floor and grunts. “You threw a phone at me.”

“Sorry, sir,” Nicole breathes out. She struggles to push herself into a sitting position.

His eyes focus and she sees exactly the moment he realizes she’s been shot. “Location?” He’s already reaching for the phone on the counter, punching in a number.

“Sternum,” she pants. “Broken ribs, likely.” 

“Suspect?”

“Willa Earp,” Nicole says through gritted teeth. She grabs for the corner of the conference table but misses and hits the floor. “Chrissy,” she grunts.

Nedley drops the phone and crouches down next to his daughter, his fingers feeling her neck for a pulse. “She’s alive,” he exhales softly.

Nicole tries for the table again, getting a firm grip before attempting to push up onto one knee. By the time she gets into a kneeling position, Nedley has lifted Chrissy to her feet, one arm around her waist as he holds her close to her body. He holds out a hand for her and she waves him off, taking a deep breath and pushing all the way up to her feet. She sways a few times, side to side. Nedley puts a steadying hand on her shoulder, grounding her.

“Waverly and Wynonna are going after Willa,” she pants. “Henry and Deputy Marshal Dolls are looking for an antidote.”

Chrissy slips a little and Nedley readjusts his grip. “They’ve got the Wainwright set up as a triage station. Those fellas already got the antidote.”

Nicole sighs in relief. She stretches up, tries to hide her wince, and nods at Nedley. “I’m good,” she promises.

“Like hell you are,” he grumbles. He offers his other arm to her. “You can use this.”

Nicole looks pointedly at Chrissy, sliding out of his grip with every second. She shakes her head and shuffles to Chrissy’s other side, slipping Chrissy’s arm over her shoulders. “Let’s go, sir.”

It’s a slow walk to the Wainwright. Every step with her left foot sends a shock of pain through her system that makes all of her nerve endings tingle. The sight of the Sheriff parts the crowd somewhat, and they get through the doors easily. They place Chrissy down on one of the makeshifts beds, a cot really, and promise to come around with the antidote in a moment. Nicole absently tucks a strand of hair behind Chrissy’s ear as she sits down at her side. 

“Thank you,” Nedley grunts, flopping down on Chrissy’s other side.

Nicole looks up, her face twisted in confusion. “For what?”

“For goin’ to get her.” He looks at Chrissy, his hand hesitantly reaching for hers. His hand rests on Chrissy’s and Nicole almost feels like she’s intruding on the moment. “She’s… She’s pretty much all I got left.”

Nicole reaches out and lets her hand rest on his shoulder. “Not all, Sheriff.”

“God,” Chrissy groans. “I’m out for ten minutes and you’re already trying to get my daughter of the year award.”

Nedley startles, dislodging Nicole’s hand. “You’re awake.”

He kneels at her side, his shaking hand at her jaw. Nicole looks away, afraid to disrupt this moment. She checks her phone. No messages from Waverly. She doesn’t expect anything; pyscho-killer-sister-hellbent-on-letting-evil-into-the-world and all. She brushes her thumb across the screen, pulling up the contact picture she has for Waverly and she smiles.

**Nicole** _[05:09:34]: Got Chrissy, getting her and Nedley the antidote_

**Nicole** _ [05:10:04]: Stay safe _

A hand lands on her knee and she follows it up an arm to Chrissy’s face. “Thank you,” she says.

Nicole shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. Waverly told me where to find you.”

Chrissy’s face crumples a little at that. “Oh, Waverly.” She looks up at Nicole with wide eyes. “I kidnapped her,” she whispers. She covers her mouth with her hand, “Oh my god, I kidnapped her. And held her hostage.  _ In a police station _ .” Her eyes dart to Nedley.

Nedley clears his throat uncomfortably and shifts in his chair. “I, well…”

“I committed a crime,” Chrissy breathes out. “A real crime. Like, a years-in-jail crime.”

Nedley scratches at the back of his neck.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Nicole jumps in. Chrissy’s eyes cut to her. “Yeah, I mean. I don’t think Waverly is going to hold it against you. It was a scary night.”

“I can’t lose you,” Chrissy says, her eyes back on Nedley. “I wasn’t really going to hurt her. I swear. I just-”

Nicole puts her hand down on Chrissy’s shoulder, pressing gently until Chrissy quiets. “Now, I don’t want to speak for Waverly. God help if I say the wrong thing. But I wouldn’t be too worried that she is going to-to hold this against you, or press charges, or anything like that. She knows how important family is.”

“Sir,” Diaz says gently. They look up at him. “Haught. We’re giving antipyschotics to everyone who feels like they might need one. Deputy Marshal Dolls and that woman,” he says, pointing towards the door. “Say their team is working on a batch of the antidote. Bobo wasn’t lying when he said he only had one.”

Nedley stands and claps Diaz on the shoulder. “How’s the wife?”

Nicole smiles softly at Chrissy. “You want me to get one of those meds for you?”

Chrissy shakes her head. “No. I’ll be fine.” She sighs and closes her eyes. “I definitely owe Waverly an apology after this. Or a dinner. Or, like, a  _ date _ .” She opens one eye. “Do you know if she’s interested in anyone?”

Nicole opens and closes her mouth uselessly for a moment before she shakes her head. “Uh-”

“Or have you finally gotten over your giant crush and asked her out?”

“What?” Nicole sputters.

“I told you,” Chrissy says. Her mouth is twisted in a grin. “Dad talks about you  _ all _ the time.”

Nicole groans and drops her head into her hands. 

Nedley sits back down and stares at the two of them. “Women,” he grunts.

Chrissy shakes her head. “Dad, be more respectful,” she scolds.

Nicole grins at the way Nedley straightens up a little and nods. “Uh, sorry, honey.”

Chrissy suddenly sits up. “Oh, god.  _ Willa _ . That bitch was-”

Nicole presses a hand to Chrissy’s shoulder at the same time Nedley puts a hand on her other shoulder. 

“Wynonna and Waverly are on it,” Nedley says. 

Chrissy groans and lays back down. “This is exactly like prom,” she mumbles. “Laying on the floor of the Wainwright feeling like someone rammed a railroad spike in my head while my dad hovers over me disapprovingly.”

Nedley glances at Nicole. “I don’t hover.”

“Of course not, sir,” she agrees easily.

“Did you drink any champagne?” Chrissy asks. 

Nicole shakes her head. “Couldn’t. Champ stole the only glass I took for myself.” She scans the room and sees that most of the Wainwright is full, but it can’t possibly be everyone who ingested the poison. Diaz is in uniform, going cot to cot and taking down information. She can see Marsden and Augustine and Hall doing the same. She shakes her head. There has to be people out on the streets, trying to get back here. “Sir, I’m going to go do a sweep outside. See if anyone is out there and move them this way.”

She tries to stand. She puts one hand on Chrissy’s cot and pushes up, but it’s so low to the ground that she needs to do most of the work herself. A fresh wave of pain cuts through her chest and she buckles under the pressure.

“Like hell you are,” Nedley huffs. He rounds the cot and pushes her back down into her seat. “You got  _ shot _ , Haught. The only place you’re going is the hopsital.”

She immediately waves him off. “No, I’m not. I’m not  _ useful _ there.”

“You’re not  _ useful  _ to me if you suddenly keel over and die from internal injuries,” Nedley fires back. 

Chrissy sits up as much as she can. “Wait, someone  _ shot _ you?”

“It’s nothing,” she insists. 

Nedley glares at her.

“Willa shot me. In the chest,” Nicole says, her head ducked slightly. “But I had my vest on.”

_ This time _ , she thinks.

Chrissy pushes up until she’s sitting. “You’re going to the hospital.”

Nicole shakes her head. “No, no. I’m staying here. I’ll wait for Waverly to get back and then she can take me.”

“Absolutely not,” Nedley argues. He puts a large hand on her shoulder and squeezes softly. “I’m taking you now.”

Chrissy swings her feet around until they’re on the floor and then she grabs for Nedley’s arm, pulling herself into a standing position. “ _ We’re _ taking you,” she corrects. 

Nicole opens her mouth to argue but they’re both glaring at her with matching looks on their faces, ones that tell Nicole she’s going to lose a fight if she tries to pick one. So she huffs instead and nods her consent and lets Nedley pull her out of the chair and onto her feet. Chrissy’s arm winds around her waist. 

They limp their way out of the Wainwright as clumsily as they came in.

 

-   
The same ER doctor from the first time shakes his head as Nedley half-carries, half-drags her inside and hands her over. He excuses himself when the doctor starts peeling her clothes off, but Chrissy stays, delicately folding her ruined uniform shirt.

“Wynonna,” Nicole says when Chrissy holds it up in confusion.

Chrissy nods and doesn’t ask any more questions.

The doctor does a quick runthrough and his hands are light on her sides but they still find the tender spots. He checks the barely-there scratch that remains on her forehead and the long, thin, white strip across her palm. He feels along her side and sighs when he tells her she definitely re-fractured her rib in the same spot, along with two other ribs, and there’s bruising on her sternum. She angles her head down and can see the start of a purpling bruise. 

“I’m beginnin’ to think you’re enjoying desk duty,” Nedley huffs when he comes back into the room. 

“It’s the worst,” she groans.

“Well get used to it. Because you’re ridin’ the bench until all of those ribs are back together.”

Chrissy raises an eyebrow. “Sports metaphors, Dad? They’re-”

“Alright, alright,” Nedley huffs. 

Nicole shifts uncomfortably. She’s been up for nearly twenty-four hours, and the exhaustion is catching up to her. “Well, thank you. For dropping me off. I'm sure you're headed back to the hotel now and-”

Nedley snorts, interrupting her. “Like I hell I am.” He holds up his cellphone. “Diaz has it under control. I’ll pop in and out if they need me. But I’m staying right here.”

“ _ We’re _ staying right here,” Chrissy says over him. She curls up in the chair by the end of the bed. Nedley nods and grabs a second chair on the other side of the room, pulling it up next to her. 

“Sir,” Nicole tries. She stifles a yawn.

“Haught,” he says sharply. “What did I tell you when you got to Purgatory?”

Nicole bites down on her bottom lip, trying to remember. It was only months ago; she should be able to reach back that far and pull the words right out. But she feels like she’s lived three lifetimes in twice as many months and everything is a little jumbled. The ache in her ribs cuts through her concentration.

“You told me that if I didn’t like Moosehead, we weren't gonna get along.”

Nedley glances at Chrissy quickly. “After that.”

“I don't remember,” she admits. 

“I told you,” he says gently. “That acceptin’ this job meant you weren’t just acceptin’ a position as an officer. It meant you were going to be joining a family. A group of people who would live and die for you.”

“I remember that being oddly sentimental for a guy who frowned so much,” Nicole admits. 

Nedley ignores her. “You're  _ my _ officer.”

“His  _ favorite  _ officer,” Chrissy adds.

“And sometimes that means sittin’ in a hospital room with someone to make sure they're not alone,” Nedley finishes. 

Nicole is quiet for a moment before she nods softly “Yes, sir.”

“Now, I know you're tired. So you go ahead and get some shut eye, and me and Chrissy are gonna be right here when you wake up,” he promises. 

Nicole yawns again and tries to fight the weight of her eyelids closing. “I can stay awake.”

“Of course you can,” he says. “But, you don't have to.”

She wants to stay awake. She wants to wait for Waverly's phone call and for the doctor to come back and tell her they don't really need to stay a whole night for observation. She wants to find Linda and make sure she’s okay and check in with Dolls because that woman with the sharp jawline and the tight bun looked like trouble. She wants to wait for Diaz to call and tell Nedley they got the antidote batched and ready to go.

Instead, she closes her eyes for just a second, and when she opens them, hours have passed. The sun looks like it’s setting in the sky, rays of light coming through her room’s window. Chrissy is asleep in her chair, her head resting on the foot of Nicole’s bed, her arm over Nicole’s blanketed foot. Nedley is sitting rigidly in his seat, his chair positioned in between the bed and the door.

“Sir?” Nicole asks, her voice hoarse.

He startles slightly and smoothes down the wrinkles in his shirt. “You’re awake.”

“How long was I asleep?”

Nedley twists and there’s a sharp crack. He winces and his hand goes to this back. “It’s nearly 5 in the evening,” he says.

Nicole fumbles for her phone on the small table. She unlocks it but there’s no new messages and one missed call from her momma. She ignores it for now and opens her messenging app, finding her conversation with Waverly. 

**Nicole** _[16:43:28]: Hey_

**Nicole** _ [16:43:56]: Text me when you get this? _

**Nicole** _ [16:44:32]: I just want to know you’re okay. _

**Nicole** _ [16:45:02]: I miss you _

“You’ve been here the whole time?” she asks Nedley, tucking her phone against her side.

He shrugs. “Chrissy fell asleep. I’ve been talkin’ to Diaz and Marsden, though. They’ve got most of those affected at the Wainwright. That Marshal that Dolls was workin’ with, Lucado? She said their people would have the antidote by tonight. Something about a kid named Jeremy being the best this side of the equator.”

Nicole opens her mouth to ask another question, but someone knocks at the door. 

_ Waverly _ , she thinks.

She tries not to be disappointed when it’s just Linda, talking on her phone. 

“Yes, ma’am,” she’s saying. “No, I got eyes on her now.” Linda pauses, narrowing her eyes at Nicole. “Well, you don’t say. You want me to- Oh,  _ absolutely _ , honey.” Linda stretches out her arm. “Here, girl. Your momma is on the phone.”

Nicole shakes her head violently, but Linda ignores her and closes the distance between them, dropping the phone into Nicole’s lap. She picks it up slowly, closing her eyes and holding it to her chest. She says a quick prayer and puts the phone to her ear but doesn’t speak.

“I can hear you breathin’,” her momma says after a minute.

“Hi, Momma.”

“Oh, don’t you ‘ _ hi, Momma _ ’ me, young lady,” her momma says, her voice low and calm. Nicole feels her stomach flop. She’d rather her momma scream than be calm. “Now, I called you because I had a feeling you were in trouble, and when I didn’t get you on your cellphone, I called your desk phone. Ms. Linda picked up and she told me you got  _ shot _ .”

“Momma, it isn’t-”

“ _ And _ ,” her momma continues. “She told me you were lucky to be wearing a vest, or you’d be  _ dead _ . Like the  _ last time _ .”

Nicole glares at Linda. “Yeah, well Linda has a big mouth,” she mutters.

“ _ Nicole Marie Haught _ ,” her momma hisses. “You will apologize to Ms. Linda. And then you will tell me what in the  _ hell _ is going on over there. She said your girlfriend’s sister shot you! You have a girlfriend?” she shouts.

Nicole sighs and lets her head drop back against the pillow propped up behind her. “Where do you want me to start?”

Her momma takes a deep breath and blows it right into the receiver. “Apologize.”

Nicole meets Linda’s eyes and whispers “sorry” to her.

“Now, tell me about this girlfriend of yours.”

Nicole could go on for hours about Waverly Earp. She already has, actually. And so when she says ‘ _ Her name is Waverly’ _ , her momma chuckles softly in her ear and tells her it’s about damn time she got her nerve up and that she can’t wait to meet someone who sounds so smart and still picked Nicole. Nicole rolls her eyes, but there’s a flash of doubt that sparks in her chest at the words. She knows her momma doesn’t mean it, though, and she swallows the fear away, waiting for the inevitable fit her momma is going to throw.

“What did Ms. Linda mean about you dying, baby?” her momma asks after Nicole finishes telling her about Banjo liking Waverly more than Nicole.

“I, uh…”

“Don’t you lie to me, Nicole.” Her momma’s voice is stern and leaves no room for argument.

“The last time I was in the hospital,” she starts.

“After that man. What did you call him? Jack?”

“Yeah,” Nicole breathes out. “Jack. He, uh…” Nicole looks up at Nedley. Nedley holds her gaze and nods reassuringly. “When the Sheriff found me, I didn’t have a pulse. They had to… They had to do CPR. And it took them… it took them a while to bring me back.”

Her momma is quiet until Nicole picks up the soft sounds of her crying.

“But I’m okay, Momma. I didn’t die.” Her chest aches with the lie. “I didn’t die that time,” she amends. The pressure loosens. “They brought me back.”

“You told me everything was fine,” her momma says, her voice tight.

“And it was,” Nicole insists. “I fractured a rib and cut my hand, but I went back to work and I was fine. I  _ am _ fine.”

“Ms. Linda said your girlfriend’s sister is not a nice lady.”

Nicole snorts softly. “I’m sure Linda said it exactly like that, too.”

“That woman has a mouth,” her momma agrees. “You were wearing your vest.”

“This time,” Nicole says.

Her momma sighs over the phone. “Goddamnit, baby. You’re gonna be the death of me, you know. I’m going to worry myself to death.”

“I know, Momma,” Nicole whispers. “I’m sorry.” Her words feels too small for what she’s trying to apologize for. She knows she’ll need to call her momma back when she’s alone, when everyone is gone and she can tell her about giving up her gift, about loving Waverly Earp more than loving the ability to know what happens next. For now, she repeats herself. “ _ I’m sorry _ .”

“It isn’t okay, baby. You can’t keep things from me just to spare me some feelings. Do you understand that?”

Nicole nods before she remembers her momma can’t see her. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her momma huffs. “You will call me first thing tomorrow morning. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nicole repeats.

“Now, you go back to resting. And you tell Ms. Linda that I expect her to email me that recipe for blackberry muffins she was telling me about.” Her momma pauses. “I love you, baby.”

“Love you too, Momma,” Nicole mumbles.

Her momma hangs up the line and Nicole hands the phone back to Linda, glaring.

“Oh, don’t you look at me like that, girl,” Linda lectures, waving a finger at Nicole. “She deserved to know the truth.” She waves a hand dismissively when Nicole opens her mouth and looks at Nedley. “What did the doctor say.”

“She fractured her rib in the same spot. Bruising to her chest. She’s overnight for observation,” he recites, as if he’s said it a few times. “Desk duty until further notice.”

Nicole groans at that. “Isn’t there any way we could-” She stops abruptly when she sees both Linda and Nedley glaring at her. “Fine. Nevermind.”

Linda grins wickedly at her. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a whole stack of books you can go through.”

Nicole sighs and shifts her feet under the blanket. Chrissy mumbles something in her sleep and Nicole freezes until Chrissy sighs again and settles. When Nicole looks back up, Linda is staring at her, her eyes unusually wide. “What?” Nicole asks.

“I just ain’t a fan of getting calls over the radio that there’s an officer down,” Linda admits, her voice raw. “I certainly ain’t a fan of finding out it’s you.”

“Awh, Linda,” Nicole tries to tease.

Linda shakes her head, though. “This isn’t a laughing matter, Nicole.”

Nicole feels her chest tighten. Linda never calls her  _ Nicole _ .

“So next time you want to throw yourself in front of a gun, you make sure you just don’t. You hear me?”

Nicole swallows heavily. “Yes, ma’am.”

Linda nods, satisfied. She marches forward, puts a slim hand on Nicole’s shoulder, and presses her lips to the crown on Nicole’s forehead. She straightens up and clears her throat before she nods again and backs up. “Well. I better go make sure Augustine hasn’t managed to burn my desk down in the time I’ve been gone,” she chirps. She nods at Nedley. “Sheriff.”

Nedley grunts a goodbye and Linda ducks her head, pushing out of the room as quickly as she came in. Nicole stares at the door blankly.

“That woman.” Nedley shakes his head. “She sure has an odd way of showing she cares.”

Nicole doesn’t laugh, even though she wants to. Instead, she hides her grin.

“Miss. Haught?” someone asks from the doorway.

Nicole’s head snaps up and the smile on her face fades instantly. “ _ Waverly _ ,” she breathes out.

“Oh, no.  _ No _ ,” Doc insists, his hands up in front of him and his hat between them. “Goodness, no. I just heard what happened and I wanted to stop and pay my condolences.”

It takes Nicole a minute for her heart to slow down. 

“My apologies,” Doc continues. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright.”

Chrissy sits up and winces as she opens her eyes. She blinks sleepily at Nedley before her eyes land on Doc. “Oh. Hi, Henry.”

Doc tips his head at her. “Miss. Nedley. Sheriff.” He turns back to Nicole. “Wynonna told me you were of particular assistance this morning.”

Nicole flexes her foot where Chrissy had been sleeping on it. “I didn’t do much.”

“On the contrary, Officer,” Doc argues. “Without you, Wynonna would not have known we were en route to the antidote. She might have wasted precious minutes trying to do that on her own.”

Nicole’s hand brushes against the phone at her side. It’s still quiet. “Did you… Did you stop it?”

Doc spares a glance at Nedley who stares blankly back at him, giving nothing away. “Yes,” he says quietly. “We were successful in stopping the problem.”

There’s something in his words and his tone that tell her she won’t like how it ended, but his eyes plead with her not to ask right now. Instead, she nods. “And you’re okay?” She pauses. “Everyone is okay?”

Doc frowns softly. “Okay is a interesting way of putting it,” he starts.

“ _ Alive _ ,” Nicole breathes out. “Everyone is alive.”

“Waverly is alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Doc answers. “Wynonna, too. Unfortunately, Deputy Marshal Dolls has been whisked away for questioning by his very angry superior officer. But he is very much alive as well.”

Nicole lets out a shaky breath.  _ Waverly is alive _ , she tells herself.  _ Juan Carlos hadn’t lied to her. Waverly is alive _ .

_ But _ , she thinks to herself.  _ If they stopped the problem, Willa probably isn’t _ .

“Now,” Doc continues. “I have some business to attend to. I just wanted to stop in and wish you well.” He puts his hat back on and touches the brim, tipping it at her before turning to Chrissy. “Miss. Nedley. Until we meet again.”

Chrissy’s cheeks flush red. “I still owe you a rematch,” she reminds him.

“That you do,” Doc says, the corners of his lips turned up. “That you do.” He turns to Nedley and silently tips his hat.

Nedley grunts and his eyes follows Doc as the door closes tightly behind him. He looks back at Chrissy, unamused.

Chrissy shrugs and stands up, twisting until her back cracks. “I’m going to get some snacks. You want anything?” she asks Nicole.

Nicole shakes her head.

Nedley sits up. “Will you get me-”

“A yogurt,” Chrissy interrupts.

Nedley shakes his head. “I want-”

“A yogurt,” Chrissy repeats. “And fruit.”

Nedley huffs and sinks back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Chrissy smiles triumphantly and winks at Nicole as she moves out of the room.

“She’s a nuisance,” Nedley says, scowling.

“She loves you,” Nicole argues back.

“Well, I saw Chrissy and she didn’t try and kill me,” someone rasps from the doorway. “Progress, right?”

Nicole startles, but sits up as Wynonna pushes off the doorframe and strides into the room. “Don’t get up on my account, Haught.” She raises an eyebrow at Nedley. “But you? I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman?”

“Visiting hours are over, Earp,” he snaps.

Wynonna rolls her eyes and sits on the edge of the bed, pushing Nicole’s feet until there’s enough space for her. She looks pointedly over her shoulder at Nedley and nods towards the door but he only glares back.

“It was you who got her into this mess in the first place.” He shakes his head. “If you think I’m leaving you alone with her, then you’re-”

“Sir,” Nicole tries.

Nedley continues to shake his head. “Nope. You can talk, and I can sit here and pretend like I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, just like I have been for the last 40 years.”

“Thanks for the solid,” Wynonna mutters. She turns back around, her head down as she picks at the fringe of her jacket. “Waverly been by yet?”

“No,” Nicole says. She nearly chokes on the word.

Wynonna sighs heavily. “She’s… she’s coming. I know she wanted to come. She’s on her way.”

Nicole nods slowly, hoping that it’s true.

“We just…” Wynonna sighs again. “I had to…”

Hesitantly, Nicole reaches out and rests her hand on Wynonna’s, stilling her fingers. She waits until Wynonna looks up at her. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Wynonna laughs dryly, turning her head towards the window. The sun is gone from the sky now and the moon isn’t all that bright, hidden behind winter clouds. Wynonna seems mesmerized by them for a long moment before she blinks and turns back to face Nicole. “I have to tell someone,” she admits quietly. But she doesn’t look ready to say anything yet so Nicole squeezes her hand again.

“Well. Whenever you want to tell someone, I’ll be ready to listen,” she says just as quietly.

Wynonna wipes clumsily at her eyes and laughs again, a little more genuinely. “Smooth, Haught. You kiss my sister with that mouth?” She makes a face. “Don’t answer that.” 

They sit quietly for a minute, Nicole’s hand on Wynonna’s, holding each other down. Nicole flashes back to a month ago, lying in a hospital bed, wondering if Wynonna was alive, wishing she had a chance to save her. She grips Wynonna’s hand a little tighter. They never talked about Jack, not with each other, and there are words pushing at Nicole’s teeth, trying to force their way out. She swallows it down; now isn’t the time. When Wynonna wants to talk, Nicole will, too.  But for now, she’ll just hold Wynonna’s hand and pretend it isn’t shaking in her grip.

“Wynonna?” she finally asks.

“Hmm?” Wynonna looks up, her eyes clouded for a second before they clear. “What?”

“I’m glad you’re alive,” she says. They’re not the words she wants to say, but they’ll do for now.

Wynonna gives her a watery smile and uses her free hand to clap Nicole on the arm. “Me too, Haught.”

The door opens and Chrissy comes back in, eyes on the balancing tower of snacks in her arms. She passes Nedley a yogurt in a plastic cup and another cup of blueberries. She looks up and pauses for a second. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize… Do you want me to come back?”

“Nope,” Wynonna says, popping the ‘p’ sound. She slides off the bed, blinking rapidly to clear her eyes. She pulls her jacket tighter around her body and gives Nicole a wide, crooked smile. “Cool. Well. Don’t, like, break Waverly’s heart, okay?” She shrugs one shoulder. “Because I’d have to try and kill you.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Third time’s the charm, they say.”

Wynonna pauses in the doorframe, her hand on the doorknob. She holds Nicole’s gaze for a minute before she nods and twists on her heel, pushing back into the hallway. The door clatters shut behind her and Nicole stares at where Wynonna had been standing until Chrissy touches her on the ankle.

“I got you some yogurt, too,” she offers.

Nicole reaches for it and winces. The pain in her side had faded for a few moments while she focused her attention on her momma and then Linda and Doc and Wynonna. She pushes a palm against her side but it makes it worse instead and she doubles over. She feels two sets of hands on her back and shoulders, trying to right her. Eventually the burn fades to a dull ache and she lays back against the pillows, panting.

“I’m calling the doctor,” Nedley decides. He’s out in the hall before Nicole can stop him. A few minutes later, the doctor is stepping into the room, a glaring Nedley behind him. He silently checks her IV lines, her monitors, and then grabs a syringe, pushing it into a line.

“Morphine,” he mumbles, leaving as quickly as he came, avoiding Nedley’s eyes. “Give it a few minutes.”

Nicole feels the cool rush of something new entering her bloodstream and busies herself with opening her yogurt. She idly takes bites, pushing the blueberries Chrissy added to it around absently. She checks her phone again.

**Nicole** _[17:53:09]: Wynonna just left_

**Nicole** _ [17:53:35]: She said you’re on your way. I promise I won’t go anywhere until you get here _

**Nicole** _ [17:54:49]: Because of doctor’s orders, mostly. And Nedley’s _

**Nicole** _ [17:55:58]: I’d wait lifetimes for you _

She flushes and shoves her phone back down under her leg, suddenly embarrassed.

She listens to Nedley and Chrissy go back and forth about gardening and curling and arguing about whether it’s rude to turn on the hockey game while they’re in a hospital.

She falls asleep again as Chrissy is describing the health benefits to a Paleo diet.    
  


-   
Nicole feels herself start to wake up as a chair scrapes across the tiled floor. Her hand clenches in a loose fist and she wills herself to move it to her side, knowing her phone is right there. But then Nedley huffs and pauses for a long moment before he pushes the chair back again, the scraping softer than before.

“If she wakes up,” he starts.

“I promise to text you,” a voice says.

_ Waverly _ , Nicole thinks instantly.

She struggles through the haze of the morphine and tries to wake herself up fully. She can feel soft fingertips brush against her cheek and she tries to tip her face into the hand there.

“Baby?” Waverly whispers.

“Hi,” Nicole rasps, her eyes still closed. It’s hard to force them open, but she tries and when she does, Waverly is sitting next at her side, her eyes wide and concerned. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” Waverly breathes. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I was... “ She takes a deep breath. “We had to…”

Nicole pushes her elbows back until she can leverage herself into a sitting position. Waverly’s hands slide around her back, her palm flat against the small of Nicole’s back. “Waves, you don’t need to tell me.”

Waverly shakes her head. “I need to tell somebody.”

Nicole lifts her hand and runs her fingers against Waverly’s skin until they tangle in the soft hairs at the base of her neck. “You had to kill Willa,” she whispers, just guessing.

“Wynonna,” Waverly breathes out. “Wynonna did.”

Nicole moves over in her bed until her hip digs uncomfortably into the pull-up railing. She looks between Waverly and the empty space she created until Waverly gives her a watery smile not unlike Wynonna’s and climbs up next to her, gingerly wrapping an arm around her waist. Her head rests against Nicole’s shoulder, her nose brushing against the darkening bruise on Nicole’s chest. Nicole presses a kiss to Waverly’s forehead.

“Where did Nedley go?” she asks.

Waverly pulls back a little, looking up at Nicole in confusion until she seems to realize Nicole is changing the subject for her benefit. “The antidote came in. He and Chrissy went down to help pass out doses and get their own. Although, it didn’t seem like they needed any.”

Vaguely, Nicole remembers Nedley telling Chrissy that they’re made of hardier stock and poisoned champagne couldn’t take them down. “Chrissy kidnapped you.”

“I  _ know _ ,” Waverly says. “I can’t believe her.” She snuggles back down against Nicole’s shoulder. “And you still carried her across the station.”

Nicole freezes for a moment. “Who told you that?”

“Nedley,” Waverly says flatly. “It was in this evening’s edition of the ‘Haught is My Best Officer’ newsletter. Don’t you get a subscription to that?” she teases.

Nicole groans. “You know what? Every time someone says it like that, it gets less funny.”

“I bet he’ll name you Parade Marshall this year,” Waverly continues.

“Waverly,” Nicole tries.

“Or he’ll name you ‘Haught of the Year’ and since you’re the only Haught in Purgatory, you’ll win every year,” Waverly keeps going.

“Unless we add a new Haught someday. And then I would definitely take second place,” Nicole says before thinking. She pauses as the words catch up to her and instantly flushes red. Waverly stills against her before her hand, splayed softly against Nicole’s ribcage, slides gently across her stomach.

“Someday?” Waverly repeats.

“You know what? Forget I even said that.” Nicole can feel the blush spreading from her face to her neck and down her chest, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

“ _ Someday _ ,” Waverly says again. Nicole can feel Waverly smile against her bare skin. “I like the sound of that.”

Nicole exhales shakily. She lets her arm come around Waverly’s shoulders, fingers combing her hair out. They lay in silence, the hospital beeping softly around them and the moon pushing through the night clouds. She can feel Waverly’s breathing evening out against her and she presses another kiss to Waverly’s forehead, letting her lips linger against her skin.

“I have so much to tell you,” Waverly breathes out. She says it so quietly Nicole almost misses it over the steady pulse of her monitors next to her bed. She sits up, crossing her legs and putting her hands in her lap.

“About what?” Nicole asks, lacing her fingers with Waverly’s. She brushes her thumbs across the back of Waverly’s knuckles. 

“About Purgatory. About the Earps.”

Nicole smiles softly. “About  _ you _ , you mean.”

Something flashes in Waverly’s eyes. It’s there for barely half of a heartbeat, but Nicole sees it and she worries about it. There’s a fear in Waverly’s eyes, a desperation, and then it’s gone and Waverly is blinking, her eyes deep and dark and inviting. 

“I should tell you,” Waverly continues. “You should know. Before you decide to stay. Before you get hurt.  _ Again _ ,” she says, running her fingertips across the bruise on Nicole’s chest lightly.

Nicole squeezes the hand laced through Waverly’s. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says. “Nothing you can say will make me run, Waverly Earp.”

“The people who lo-  _ care _ about me? About Wynonna? They always get hurt.” Waverly looks down, away from her. She pulls at a piece of string on her pants. She scoffs darkly. “You already got hurt.”

Nicole has to pinch herself to keep herself in this reality, to avoid slipping back to being on the floor in the station, bleeding out in Waverly’s arms. She digs her fingernails into her thigh for ten blinding seconds before she lets go. She reaches for Waverly’s hand next, stilling it against her pant leg. “I’m here. And I’m okay.”

“You’re  _ hurt _ . My-my sister  _ shot _ you.”

Nicole hooks a finger under Waverly’s chin and pulls her forward until they’re pressed forehead to forehead, their noses brushing. “I survived.”

“What happens the next time, though?” Waverly asks, her voice thick with tears. “What happens if you don’t survive.”

“I’m going to live a long life,” Nicole promises. “I’ll probably die at a very old age, in a recliner, with my slippers on.”

Waverly shakes her head. “You don’t know that.”

Nicole sucks in a shaky breath and lets her eyes flutter closed, breathing in Waverly. Her body aches to close the inches between them and kiss Waverly and pull her back against her and lay down and close her eyes and let the day start tomorrow, when the sun comes up. 

“I have to tell you something,” she says instead.

Waverly stiffens for just a second, just long enough for Nicole to worry that this is a bad idea. She thinks of taking it back, of turning it into a joke, but then Waverly relaxes and leans the rest of the way in, brushing her lips gently against Nicole’s mouth. 

“You can tell me anything,” Waverly says.

Nicole leans back in, kissing Waverly hard. With each press of Waverly’s lips to her own she sees Waverly; Waverly dangling from a rope ten feet off the ground; Waverly limp in someone’s grip; Waverly sliding down the side of a trailer; Waverly stumbling back against the counter with her hands at her throat. Her hand slides around Waverly’s neck, feeling for the spot she knows doesn’t exist, the tear in her skin that isn’t there. Waverly’s hand skates along her waist and up, sparking a shock of pain in her body that makes her gasp into Waverly’s mouth.

Waverly breaks the kiss, panting heavily as she presses her forehead against Nicole’s cheek. “Sorry, sorry,” she exhales.

Nicole leans back against her pillow and presses the back of her hand to her forehead. “It’s okay.”

“My poor, brave, baby,” Waverly mumbles, leaning in to kiss the bottom of Nicole’s cheek.

Nicole squirms a little as Waverly’s hands drift to the other side of her ribcage. “Waves,” she exhales.

“You can tell me  _ anything _ ,” Waverly repeats.

She panics. Waverly’s eyes are wide and trusting and she needs Waverly to know that her secrets are just as terrifying as Waverly’s. “I can see the future,” Nicole spits out.

Waverly freezes for a moment before she snorts. “I think that morphine is still working.”

Nicole shakes her head. “ _ No _ . I’m… It’s the truth. It’s…” She huffs and groans. “Listen. The women in my family, we have this gift. We can see the future. We can see how things are going to happen.”

Waverly runs her hands through Nicole’s hair, gathering it into a loose bun and tying it back. “Have they checked you for a concussion?” she asks kindly.

“So a demon-filled trailer park and a gun that can send those demons straight back to hell is believable, but not that I can tell the future?” Nicole asks, a hard edge to her voice.

Waverly picks up on it and her face softens. “Oh, baby.”

Nicole shakes Waverly’s hand off her shoulder. “It’s a family thing. My momma can and her momma could and I can, too.” She pauses. “I  _ could _ ,” she corrects. She looks up and past Waverly. “The first time we met. I knew you were going to put a piece of plywood over that hole in the window. I sat at the bar that morning and talked to you and I saw a-a  _ vision _ of you, putting plywood up.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me Pete York would just be paying Tommy to replace it?” Waverly asks. There’s still a glint in her eye, a small laugh in her words that tells Nicole Waverly doesn’t really believe her.

“I wasn’t supposed to change the fabric of fate,” she recites, remembering Juan Carlos’s words. 

“The what?”

Nicole sighs. “I could see things and I was just supposed to let them happen. It was like…  _ previews _ .” She reaches up and presses her fingers to Waverly’s neck. “You wondered why I was at the homestead that day, when those…” She smiles humorlessly. “I guess they were Revenants, but they had you hanging from the gate and I got you down. I saved you.”

“You saw it,” Waverly says slowly. Her hand goes back to Nicole’s shoulder, stroking her fingers lightly over the strap of Nicole’s tank top. “You saw yourself rescuing me?”

Nicole swallows past the lump in her throats and the memory in her head of Waverly’s body hanging limply above her and she shakes her head. “No,” she whispers. “I saw you die.”

Waverly’s hand still. “So your visions aren’t always… accurate?” 

Nicole thinks of Nathan breaking his arm, of her dad getting his new job, of Pine spilling coffee on his shirt, of Waverly grinning at her with a piece of plywood in her arms. “No,” she says. “It’s always accurate.”

“But baby, I’m right here.” Waverly takes Nicole’s hands in her and squeezes them softly. “Alive.”

“Because I saved you,” Nicole adds.

“Right.”

Nicole shakes her head. “I wasn’t supposed to do that. I wasn’t supposed to save you.” She pulls her hands from Waverly’s grip. “There’s a path, okay? It’s… My momma has always told me that there is a plan to the universe. That the world decides what happens and you-you  _ can’t  _ change what the world has decided has to happen. And the universe said you were going to die. And I... “ She inhales sharply. “I changed it, Waverly. I changed what happened.”

Waverly tips her head to the side, confusion in her eyes. “I don’t understand. I’m alive.”

“I drove to the homestead and I waited until right before they kicked the chair out from under you,” Nicole explains. She feels so far away from Waverly, back on the homestead in the bushes, her blood rushing in her ears. “In my vision, Wynonna was busy with Malcolm and she was too far away and when he pushed the stool out from under you, you just…” She hears the  _ crack _ of Waverly’s neck. “So I drove over there and I climbed up next to you and-”

“And you cut me down.” Waverly finishes. Her hand drifts to her neck, lingering there. She looks up at Nicole with wide eyes. “You came to Shorty’s and you touched my neck and it creeped me out but-”

“I couldn’t believe you were alive,” Nicole admits. “I couldn’t believe I changed it. My momma told me to  _ never _ change it. But I did.”

“Why?”

Nicole feels her heart sink in her chest. Waverly’s eyes are wide and red at the edges and Nicole swallows past the truth -  _ I love you _ \- threatening to explode from her mouth and settles on the half-truth. “You’re  _ you _ . And I can’t imagine the world without  _ you _ in it.”

Waverly inhales sharply. 

“But I didn’t know there would be consequences,” Nicole rushes on. She presses her hands down in her lap and hopes they stop shaking. “And Gus… She got hurt that day because I picked you. Because I saved you.”

Waverly shakes her head. “No. That’s impossible.”

Nicole’s mouth is a runaway train. She can’t stop herself now. “But then I saw it again. I saw you die again. At the trailer park. When you were spying on Bobo and Doc.”

Waverly frowns at her. “How did you know that’s where I was?”

Nicole ignores her. “You were recording them and Bobo told Doc to take care of it, to take care of you. And you tried to hide but then you leaned back around the trailer and the bullet, it hit you.”

“Baby,” Waverly tries again. “I’m  _ right _ here.”

“I called you. Do you remember?”

Waverly frowns. “Yeah,” she says slowly. “You did.”

“And you moved, just as Doc fired his gun. You moved and answered the phone and I know I heard the gunshot, but I know it didn’t hit you,” Nicole says. 

Waverly nods slowly. “It hit the trailer right above my head and then I-”

“You ran,” Nicole finishes.

“I was so,  _ so _ annoyed with you,” Waverly admits. “You called me a hundred times-”

“Fifteen,” Nicole cuts in.

Waverly narrows her eyes at Nicole. “And the first thing you said to me was that Wynonna and Champ were in a hostage situation but  _ Champ _ would be fine.”

Nicole glances down at her hands. “All I could think was that I was glad  _ you _ were fine.” She clenches her hands into fists. “But you were only fine because I called and you moved out of the way and if I hadn’t called, if I hadn’t just kept hitting redial, Doc would have killed you.”

“Doc would never kill me,” Waverly argues.

“Not on purpose.” Nicole remembers the shock in Doc’s eyes in her vision, the way he hadn’t expected the bullet to strike true. “But Shorty, he  _ died _ ,” she continues. “He died because I saved your life.”

Waverly is already shaking her head before Nicole finishes. “No. Those men, they killed Shorty.  _ You _ didn’t kill Shorty.”

“I picked  _ you _ , Waverly,” Nicole says, her voice straining. “I picked you a second time, I changed fate  _ again _ . He told me. He told me I couldn’t keep doing it. At Shorty’s memorial, he told me I needed to stop playing creator, but the universe kept trying to take you away.” 

“Who, baby? Who told you?”

His name is on the tip of her tongue but she can’t get herself to say it. She shakes her head instead. “My momma, she told me, too. She told me I can’t change fate. That everything is predetermined and there’s an order to the world. She saw her daddy die. She was in the car with him and she saw a deer jump into the road and there was an accident. And she was so young. She wanted to  _ save _ him. So she told him to stop, right before the deer jumped in front of them. And she thought it was fine,” Nicole whispers. “But then, a mile down the road, another car t-boned them and her dad died instantly.”

Waverly’s fingers brush at Nicole’s face.

“She told me I can’t change what the world has decided has to happen, Waverly.” She pauses. 

“The siren going off, the night of Stephanie’s party,” Waverly finally says.

“I watched him snap your neck like it cost him nothing. Like he didn’t have to waste time or energy on you.” Nicole shifts uncomfortably. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know I was trading lives. I didn’t know the universe kept score. I didn’t know that saving you meant giving up someone else. I swear I didn’t know. I  _ swear _ , Waverly. I-”

“Baby, baby,” Waverly hums, pulling Nicole close. She runs her fingers down the back of Nicole’s neck. “It’s okay.”

“I got Gus hurt. I got Shorty killed. I  _ traded _ Stephanie Jones’s life for yours,” Nicole sobs. “And he told me not to keep doing it, but you  _ kissed _ me and I knew. God, Waverly, I  _ knew _ . I would trade the whole damn world for you.”

Waverly breathes in and out slowly and Nicole tries to match it, to try and slow her body down. Her chest aches and her stomach twists and the truth feels like it’s burning through her mouth. She grips Waverly tightly, her fingertips pressing into Waverly’s arm and back. She tries to breath. She tries to remind herself that Juan Carlos promised her Waverly would live; for now. She tries to tell herself that she’s alive and they’re safe.

After a few minutes, Nicole feels like she can breathe on her own. She sits up, wiping clumsily at her eyes.

“You said ‘could,’ Waverly finally says.

Nicole frowns. “What?”

“You said you  _ could _ see the future,” Waverly reminds her.

Nicole pauses. She looks away at her hands, at the rail on the bed, at the monitors next to her. She looks at anything that isn’t Waverly, trying to figure out how to put into words what she did, what she would do all over again if she had to.

“Baby, what did you do?” Waverly asks softly.

Nicole laughs dryly. “I traded the world for you, Waverly Earp.” She finally looks up to meet Waverly’s eyes.

“Baby,” Waverly tries again. “What did you do.”

“Willa shot you.”

Waverly shakes her head. “Willa shot  _ you _ .”

Nicole opens her mouth and pauses for a second. “Well, yeah. She did. Twice.” She scoffs. “But I watched her shoot you first. I watched her aim that gun at you and shoot you and I was too late to save you. So I  _ fixed _ it. He told me I needed to even the score.”

Waverly pulls back a little as Nicole’s words settle in the space between them. “You got shot.”

Nicole tries to breathe out slowly but it turns into a sob. “I  _ died _ , Waverly.”

“No.”

“I died,” Nicole repeats. “I went to…” She hiccups as she tries to laugh. “I went to  _ Purgatory _ and they gave me a second chance and I made them a deal.”

“What did you do?” Waverly asks quietly, her fingers sliding across Nicole’s chest, barely brushing against the bruise there. 

“I gave up my gift,” she says. It’s the first time she’s thought the words, or said the words, and they stick in the back of her throat. “I gave up my gift,” she repeats. “And I got to live. And I got to keep you alive.”

“Baby,” Waverly breathes out.

Nicole shakes her head. “It was a good deal. I get to live. You get to live.” She tries to for funny and knows she falls short. “I could do without the hospital stay or my ribs snapping like twigs, but I get to live.  _ You _ get to live.”

“You gave it up for me.”

“I’d do it again,” she promises.

Waverly looks away. “Nicole, I’m not… I’m not  _ worth _ that.”

Nicole presses the tips of her fingers to the small scar under Waverly’s chin and lifts her head until their eyes meet. “You are worth all of that and so much more.”

Waverly tries to look away, but Nicole holds her steady, trying to pour everything she can’t say into her touch and her eyes. Waverly shakes her head softly and twists her head, pressing her lips to Nicole’s palm. “That’s a lot of pressure for a new relationship,” she tries to joke.

“I would never ask you to be anything you’re not,” Nicole promises. “I just need you to be  _ alive _ .”

Waverly stares at her for a long moment before she leans in and kisses her. Her hands slide through Nicole’s hair and she pulls her so close Nicole feels like they’re melting into each other. They kiss until Nicole’s lungs burn for air and her chest aches but when Waverly pulls away, Nicole chases her, searching for more. More kisses, more assurances that Waverly is alive, more assurances that they’re safe and sound and  _ together _ .

Waverly breaks the kiss again, leaning her forehead against Nicole’s, panting softly against her mouth. “So,” she breathes out. “Where do we go from here?”

Nicole laughs, feeling a weight lift off her chest. “I don’t know,” she admits. “For the first time… I don’t  _ know _ .”

Waverly presses her lips to the top of Nicole’s cheek. “Are you okay with that?”

Nicole pulls back and smiles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind Waverly’s ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more okay with something in my whole life.”


End file.
